Going with the ‘St. Michael’ flow once again – only this time in the opposite direction, on an unplanned visit to Burrow Mump on the Somerset Levels.
Seen and unseen lines. Heading to Burrow Mump – Somerset Levels.
Burrow Mump. An afternoon of simple pleasures and no entry fee either!
Burrow Mump, rises like a mini Glastonbury Tor out of the Somerset Levels; and like Glastonbury Tor – Brentor on Dartmoor and St. Michael’s Mount in Cornwall – Burrow Mump is also on the St. Michael Alignment. Hence the Dartmoor connection! On a clear day – you can see for miles and miles and miles…in all directions, across a patchwork of green and pleasant land…
However on this day, Saturday 15th. August 2015 – I didn’t cast my eyes beyond the enclosure of the ‘mump’ – preferring to lose myself in the immediacy and beauty of what was right there ‘under my nose’. With a line from one of my favourite songs by Chris Rea – floating in and out of my head – “I looked for love and found it everywhere…”
Love of the land. A farmer attending to his sheep after bringing them in from grazing the ‘Mump’…
The fallen remembered here. For love of king and country – and the freedom enjoyed today…
Being in love. From my perspective – young love remembered…
Love between one man and his dog…
Labour of love. Honey Bee and the fruits of its labour hanging from a bough ‘over’ the Mump…
My love of winged messengers, especially Ravens, Magpies and Crows…
and golden bough. Mistletoe hidden in the heart of a ‘Burrow Mump’ Hawthorn tree…
I love the onset of blood-red berries heralding the golden days of late summer…
and the magical weavings and wonders of Mother Nature – and unexpected shafts of light. Spotlight on Incy-Wincy spider in her web – spied in a Hawthorn tree that overhung the utilitarian car park. Beauty is everywhere – you just have to perceive it.
I love staring into limitless sky…
especially through ancient stone masonry that has stood the test of time and weather. Uplifting Burrow Mump window “Warm still with the the life of forgotten men who made them” D.H Lawrence. (I love poetry too!)
I love works of art by living artists and makers also. A pendant that I randomly picked up and chose to wear in the rush to get out – made by clay artist, Rose Mary Flint – faraway in the USA. Complete with its alignment of two mini mumps – (Glastonbury and Burrow Mump?) – and a spiral enclosed all within a heart – suddenly it seemed ‘strangely’ in its element held against the mottled ruin of St. Michael’s church. I love serendipitous moments and symbolism…
(https://www.etsy.com/uk/shop/RoseMarysClay)
A manifestation of Christ’s love…
witnessed on an otherwise ordinary and functional gatepost. Gateway to Burrow Mump…
‘Melanie Magpie’ in her element!
and Tom. Doing his own thing.
Olde graffiti. ‘A’ is for Archie…chauffeur for the day. So blessed to be seamlessly ‘rolled along’ by my grown-up child – what goes around comes around.
I love enthusiasts that keep the magic of the past alive. Happily waiting to crossover the Minehead to Bishop’s Lydeard Heritage Steam Railway line…
passing below the lofty ‘mump’ of Conygar Folly near Dunster Castle – on the way to the seaside…
for an impromptu teatime picnic. Car with a view; Minehead’s own magnificent ‘mump’…
Archie’s ‘great white shark’ basking in the sunshine on the promenade…
Finally over the top of the ‘mump’ that is Countisbury Hill! Our descent into Lynmouth – then westward over beautiful wild Exmoor through Blackmoor Gate – onward towards day’s end and the comfort of home…
I love going out for the day to somewhere special – but I equally love to come home to my snug, red parlour room and be surrounded by all my lovely things and mementos – and music and warmth… “Homeward Bound – Somerset Levels” original work by Judith Webber. An Englishwoman’s home is definitely her castle – mump – tor – whatever…I love being in my space with a cup of tea at the ready!
Soundtrack to the day – playing only in my head…
Lyrics to Giverny by Chris Rea.
Deep inside these old dusty walls
There’s a sacred heart, I’d know this garden anywhere
She was warm, she was deep summertime
She was love itself and she was standing there
Standing close, so close to me
I closed my eyes and I could see
Giverny
And in this strange and holy place
I looked for love and found it everywhere
It was what you saw she came to see
Because of you she was standing there
Giverny
Books may burn and rain may fall
But what is here I know will last forever more
Colours change, there are no defines
She was love itself and I thank you for giving me
Giverny.
Where next?