Late afternoon yesterday, I happened to look out of the bedroom skylight, and there was the moon in next door’s ash tree. And a planet too. Venus I think. A fine sight.
Becky’s looking up at the night sky today too.
#January Light
How About Some Spanish Sunlight On Toast?
It’s not something I do often – once in a blue moon, or more especially as an antidote to four months without much sunshine. But then the Seville oranges had arrived at Entertaining Elephants, sister Jo’s scrumptious shop. So it had to be done – a spot of marmalade making.
There’s no doubting it’s a faff – all that separating of orange innards into a muslin bag. (I found a desert spoon speeded up operations). Then the fine chopping and slow simmer of peel. But oh, the scent of warm orange that filled the cottage, and then the satisfying row of glowing jars. So then I thought I’d take a photo, and as I was cropping and squaring it, it occurred to me that it had a Rothko-esque quality had that fine artist ever thought to pursue the diagonal or ponder on the joys of marmalade making.
By the way, it tastes delicious too. But in the absence of a tasting, may the marmalade light be with you.
copyright 2020 Tish Farrell
Below The World’s First Cast Iron Bridge: Half ‘n Half-Light
I admit this is not a great shot of one of industrial history’s key artefacts, though you can just make out the new rust-red livery of the ironwork. Obviously the thing that caught my eye here was the strange lighting effect between bridge and river.
But for those of you who like a few facts to support ‘first in the world’ claims, the bridge was built in 1779 by Quaker Ironmaster Abraham Darby III. It spans the Severn Gorge in Ironbridge, Shropshire, and was intended to replace a (sometimes treacherous) ferry crossing between Broseley and Coalbrookdale, much used by the local workforce. But most of all it was designed to impress. Not only was it the world’s first cast iron bridge, so demonstrating a pioneering structural material, it was also the first single span bridge on the River Severn (all the other bridges were built of stone and had low arches). This new design meant that the large sailing barges (trows) coming up from Bristol did not have to de-mast to pass under it.
The River Severn trade was a busy one too – all manner of luxury goods coming upstream, locally produced pig iron, castings, ceramics and porcelain going downstream. Inevitably then, word of this daring new structure would quickly spread. People would start thinking of cast iron as a material with prospects. The Coalbrookdale iron masters certainly had plenty of ideas – from the industrial (iron framed factories, wagon wheels, rails, boiler castings) to the decorative and all points in between. The Great Exhibition of 1851 and the world trade fairs that it engendered provided the shop window for their ever more ingenious fabrications.
The Company’s catalogues were the ‘style books’ of the late 19th century. Cast iron was used to make just about everything – glasshouse frames, intricate park gates, garden rollers, seats, horse troughs, statues, fountains, stoves, boot scrapers, fire surrounds, nut crackers, bandstands, lamp posts, fruit bowls, cooking pots, grave memorials and all manner of finials and fancy pieces. Its beauty lay in the fact that once designs had been committed to moulds, pieces could be mass produced, and whether for grand architectural statements for the stately pile or a cauldron for the workman’s home the material was supremely functional (if a little cold to the touch).
So how about one of these to hang your hat on:
These pieces might seem ‘overdone’ to our eyes, but they involved consummate skill (and physical risk) in their moulding and casting. As to design, the Coalbrookdale Company founded a technical institute for its workforce with the specific aim of nurturing local expertise and innovation in the fields of decorative ironwork.
But these days it is perhaps the enduring and durable ornamental garden seat that is more appealing to us. Here’s one I spotted at Dudmaston Hall back in the summer:
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And now back to where it and I started, but with a better view of the Iron Bridge: Abraham Darby III’s magnificent cast iron PR stunt. And it’s still going strong after 241 years (thanks to some recent rigorous conservation work by English Heritage). And still the tourist attraction it was back then too – even to us locals who like to pay homage to this piece of engineering chutzpah every once in a while.
On The Church Green ~ Willow-Light
A bit of an odd phenomenon I thought on Monday as we were walking across Wenlock’s Church Green. And not only because we had sunshine – a rare event over the past few months – but also because the willow tree appeared to emitting its own light. The sunshine was also catching the edge of William Penny Brookes’ grave (1809-1896), he who was the town’s enlightened physician and who in 1850 recreated the Olympian Games as an annual town event. These games attracted national and later international interest. Brookes was in correspondence with Baron Coubertin (often given the credit for masterminding the modern Olympics) who visited Wenlock to see the games for himself. The model that William Brookes had perfected, down to the designing of the medals, was the actual inspiration for the creation of the modern Olympic Movement.
Brookes was a man who operated on many fronts when it came to improving community wellbeing. He was responsible for the arrival of the railway and the gas works, founded a library and the Agricultural Reading Society for working people, conducted trials on children’s bodily fitness and lobbied for the introduction of physical education to British schools. The link above gives a brief summary of his life and legacy to the town, and indeed to the world at large. The house where he lived stands opposite the church, marked with the requisite blue plaque. He is well remembered.
http://www.wenlock-olympian-society.org.uk/ for more information on past and present Wenlock Olympian Games
Dubai Desert: Early Morning Strobelight
It was about 5 a.m. and I had not slept all night. Desert sand is very hard on the hip bone, with or without a custom-made scoop-out beneath it. And our pop-up tent offered no defence against the loud snores of Geoff, our Tanzanian guide, who was sleeping in the open back of his Land Cruiser. But to walk out of the camp alone and up into the high dunes and watch the sun rise over Al Hajar – instant rejuvenation remedy.
More desert views in the previous post.
Lamu ‘Roof-light’ And A Room With Many Views
It’s back to the old Africa album for some rooftop views of Shela village on the East African island of Lamu. The photos are accruing vintage status, taken with a non-digital camera (Olympus trip) many Christmases ago when home for us meant Nairobi.
Many of you will have seen them before. We were staying in the grandly named ‘penthouse suite’ of the long gone Island Hotel, four floors up in the palm thatched rafters. The ‘penthouse’ status meant much empty space, basic cold water shower and loo, a too-narrow-for-two Lamu bed, a couple of locally made chairs, and best of all, windows on three walls. I have never had so many good views all at once. There was a breeze too off the nearby Manda Strait – always a blessing in the sticky hot season.
And of course this open-to-the-elements facility also came with a soundtrack – radios, family chatter, clattering saucepans, babies crying, cockerels crowing, cats yowling and donkeys hee-hawing. And if at night sleep happened at all, then all too soon there came the dawn call to prayer, the sonorous tones of Allahu Akbar – all of village life welling in our roof space like sea-sounds in a shell. It was utterly mesmerising. Perhaps we dreamt it.
Taking a Lamu dhow into Stone Town. Another kind of window.
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Related posts:
A brief introduction to the Swahili culture of the East African seaboard The Swahili
The original post about our long-ago Christmas trip Lamu Dreaming
copyright 2020 Tish Farrell
Canine Delight In Stormy Water
The wild waves on Newborough Beach may look alarming, but this dog was having the time of its life – as dogs usually do. Nothing like a spot of unfettered enthusiasm.
January Light #11 Pop over to Becky’s to join in her January Light challenge: square format, words ending in ‘-light’ (fudging allowed).
Cee’s Black & White Photo Challenge: Moving Water Cee always has great challenges: join her
Over Large Pigeon Alights On Small Crab Apple Tree And…
…has to do some very serious pondering as to how to pick the apples without falling off the tree. So here we see the thought processes of a problem-solving pigeon as viewed from the kitchen door.
Success?
Well no. Pigeons can’t chew or swallow whole crab apples, though this morning I watched one have a darn good try. (Appropriate procedure for dealing with a choked pigeon anyone?)
Finally, after much deliberation, the hard won prize was ejected. More pondering ensued.
More gymnastics.
Better leave it to the blackbird then. He does have the right kit for crab apple harvesting.
Tish Farrell 