Two by two

Two days, two museums, two extraordinary artefacts, two things crossed off the list.

Saturday, Worthing Museum and exhibit one.

This 'thing' came to my attention a few years ago when a friend sent through a photo of it. At the time it had been lost and only photographic evidence remained. However, more recently it was rediscovered inside a box in the stores, but wasn't on display the last time I visited. The museum only reopened last month following a two year long refurbishment and has yet to put out the accompanying labels. You won't be remotely surprised to be told that this is known as 'The Cissbury Phallus' and was discovered in 1953 by a local archaeologist John Pull. It was found down shaft 27 of the neolithic flint mine nearest the entrance to the southern entrance of the Cissbury Ring Hillfort. I am just imaging the miner's glee when he happened upon it whilst excavating way back in 3800 BC...I am sure that there must have been some ribald comments for it's a big beast shall we say. Although it has been lightly shaped in places, it is mainly a natural formation of a flint shaft with a fossilised sea urchin [echinoid] attached to the top.It was the first time that I learnt that the phallus as an art form/ritual item had been part of the human story for so long. The oldest one dates back 28,000 years. We can speculate upon its role in the society of the day, but the suggestion of it being used as a fertility symbol seems likely, but knowing human nature as it it I am sure that people also enjoyed the visual rudeness of it. Whilst my friend and I were actually there for a folkart exhibition. this unexpected Brucie bonus was an extra highlight.

Sunday, Ashmolean Museum, Exhibit two.

Way back in 2018 I specifically travelled over to Oxford to go to a witchcraft exhibition at the Ashmolean and with a bit of time to spare beforehand I had a lovely wander around some of the galleries of interest to me and saw some amazing sights. It was only when I got home that I realised with great frustration that it is the home of the Alfred Jewel and I had missed where it was housed. We were back in the city this weekend dancing at the folk festival and with an hour to spare and only a five minute walk away from our first dance spot I wasn't going to miss out on another opportunity. It really was a case of dive in, take a photo and dash out again, but  so worth it. 

The jewel was discovered in 1693 by a labourer digging peat in North Petherton, Somerset and it is known that Alfred The Great established a monastery in nearby Athelney having sought refuge there in 878 from the marauding vikings. It is a miniature masterpiece formed from gold with a dragon finial and an enamelled portrait of a man sealed beneath a teardrop shaped piece of rock crystal. Upon it the translated inscription reads 'Alfred ordered me to be made'. It has been in the museum's possession since 1718. Various theories have been put forward to its purpose, but the favoured one nowadays is that it is the head of aestel which would originally have had an ivory pointer and was used for following written text. Alfred is known to have given every bishop in his kingdom an English version of the Regula Pastoralis [written by Pope Gregory] to improve the clergy literacy. Maybe this was also sent out to someone of high status. If you're a fan of the tv series 'detectorists' you will know that this is supposedly the piece Lance found which ended up in the British Museum😀 It might be small, but it certainly packs a punch impact wise.

I consider myself to have been really lucky these past couple of days.

꩜Aril꩜

White Ermine

 If anyone ever tells you that moths aren't beautiful...this is the White Ermine moth.

Arilx

Easter Monday Jaunt

With many folk in full holiday mode yours truly has been seeking out the quiet places away from the crowds.  A couple of hours walking in the stunning Sussex countryside a few miles from home was just the ticket and gave me the reset I needed. Please tag along if you'd care to join us on our most recent meander.

Regular visitors here will know that I am a lover of Spring and Autumn. This time of year it's all about the freshness and vibrant colours of the new season. Nature didn't let me down. Photos never capture the true beauty of the woods at bluebell time...the colour is sublime as are the lime greens and the sharp orange of that lichen [imaginatively called Common Orange Lichen]. The wings of the orange tip butterfly are tangerine, but they rarely land for more than a brief moment so capturing a close-up is well nigh impossible! 

This particular combination of a high gate above and a stile below was one neither of us had encountered before. The design is to keep the livestock in and once we'd crossed the field we found out first hand why that was. That goat is the ringleader....

He called his ovine mates over and then they started nonchalantly following us at a distance to lull us into a false sense of security.

As we neared the other gate on the far side, these would-be Houdinis sped up and we had to get through pretty sharpish. I think that they might have played before😀

Having been very slack this year and barely set foot in any churches I got two for the price of one on this occasion. The first one was a RC one which I only popped over to because I wanted to see the grave of the writer and former MP Hilaire Beloc who lived round here. Not much of interest to report, but then we washed up back at the parish church of St George's in West Grinstead where we'd parked the car. Having been before I wasn't even sure if I was going to bother again, but as ever when temptation is dandled in front of me it is too hard to resist. Am mighty glad that I gave in again for I have learnt over the past decade where I might find things lurking and as you can see below I turned up several things which had previously passed me by.

The faded remains of an early 16th century set of wall paintings featuring St Christopher holding the infant Jesus with a windmill? That's definitely a new one on me. The picture gives you a better idea of what it would have looked like back in its heyday.

You really do find all sorts of things knocking about in churches and often without explanation. At the time I theorised that this wooden box might have been an ancient coffin, but looking at it back at home I can see that it would have been for a very short person and why would it have had strap hinges. Then I wondered if it was the partial remains of a so called crusader chest, but wrong again. It is a hudd [hood] which was a portable shelter to protect the clergyman when he was conducting a funeral service at the graveside in inclement weather conditions.

I have seen my fair share of arcaded 12th century fonts in my time and this one was lovely, but not particularly noteworthy...or so I thought until I saw those teeny faces peering out at me from the corners. Possibly lions, but delightful and nearly missed.

It felt like my outing had definitely been sprinkled with fairy dust.

꩜Aril꩜

Ostara/Easter

David has been baking and a friend dropped this book off that she saw in a charity shop💚 That's my Easter sorted then. Hope you all have a good weekend.

Arilx

Wedding

 

Doesn't this image just sum up spring. My Dad told me that when the blossom cascaded down my Grandmother always said that it was because there had been a fairy wedding. What a lovely window into the folklore of her Edwardian childhood.

Arilx

Not giving a fig

There was the 10.17 bus up on the board yet when I looked a couple of minutes later it had vanished into the ether without any explanation for its mysterious disappearance. With the next one not due for an hour David and I regrouped over a coffee and doughnuts. We were soon chuckling about just how grumpy we'd been about a missing bus [first world problems eh!] and before long we'd come up with a plan B. Half an hour later and we were on our way down to Tarring.

I had always believed that the beautiful village of Tarring was separate from Worthing, but turns out that once again I am misinformed. Once upon a time it was the more important town and Worthing was just a small fishing village, but over time fortunes changed and these days it's been absorbed by the ever expanding coastal conurbation. Somehow though it's retained its character and although the oldest part is only a couple of streets now, it's a joy to spend an hour or so there admiring its medieval buildings which are in such contrast to its surrounding environs. Personally I like to have a starting point when exploring new areas and the short heritage walk provided exactly that. 

The church of St Andrew's dates from the 13th century. As ever the Victorians have had their mucky little paws all over it, but I found the medieval feel of the 19th century stained glass pleasing. John Parsons died in 1633 and his tomb is now the oldest remaining one in the churchyard.

For those like me who enjoy different architectural styles the High Street is the place to head for. Below we have the timbered 15th century Parsons Row along with the very familiar Sussex flint covered former Malthouse. Many of the houses would appear to be later, but if you were to remove their once fashionable brick frontages you would find the much older timber framed structured hidden behind them. The Castle Inn lamp is an amazing survivor when you consider that the pub served its last pint way back in 1911. Although I spotted the castle adorning the top of it when I was there the presence of the cannons were a later discovery. My absolute perfect type of small and easy to miss detail.

Prior to coming here I had wanted to follow up the legends of both Thomas A Becket and the figs. It is rumoured that the great man himself came here and stayed at the grade1 listed Old Palace below. Sadly the facts don't stack up as this dates from 1230 and he met his grisly end in 1170 nor do the claims end there.

The house below is called Bishop's Garth and is nowadays a private residence. If you squint you can see a fig tree growing up above the garden wall and that's where the former Archbishop of Canterbury comes in again. This time it is claimed that the great man himself planted the first one and this little nugget gave the 19th century tourist industry just the boost it needed. By 1830 the fig garden covered three quarters of an acre and had boasted over 100 trees. Visitors flocked in to see this spectacle and with the Victorian nose for ingenuity very much in full view the house became a cafe. One could enjoy a cuppa and bowl of fresh figs. Legend has is that such was the high quality of the figs an Italian warbler called Beccafico bird would fly all that way every year just to feast on the Tarring figs! Legally the homeowners have to open the garden to the public once a year which they do so in July, but nowadays it's a much smaller affair as much of the land was sold off during the 1980s for house building.

As it turned out this change of plan worked in our favour as we had sea mist and drizzle for most of the time we were out and about...we were never going to get fabulous sea views down in Worthing under those circumstances were we😉There's nothing for it...we're just going to have to hop on the bus another day and give it another whirl. Hope everyone has a good weekend.

꩜Aril꩜

New sightings

 I adore this time of year when the breezes are soft and there's some warmth in the air. Have so enjoyed the past few days, although the month has been a quiet one. It seems like this past year has gone past in a flash and we passed the first anniversary of David's cancer op last week. The memories it has stirred up has seen me seeking reflective spaces and heading out into nature has always calmed any emotional maelstroms for me. We are in the best place we can be and I am delighted to say that for the first time the surgeon didn't find anything to remove to test following David's latest biopsy. With a couple of recent wanderings I am so very happy to have seen my first Redwing. Close up you can see very clearly that they are part of the thrush family with their speckled breasts, but the smudge of rouge on their side gives away their true identity. Alas no photo, but instead I have this one to share. My first encounter with Coltsfoot💛🧡

I will endeavour to write about our latest bus adventure next time.

Arilx