My Roots.

In my last post I got a bit personal & emotional.
This one goes farther.
This Granite tor is my roots.
I spent the first thirteen years of my life living less than half a kilometre from it, & still live about a kilometre from it.
The heath around it & the disused granite quarry below it where my playground & my nature classroom.
I can remember picking bilberries with my mother when I was five.
Purple stained lips & fingers.
I can remember huddling under the overhang with my first love when the heavens opened.   Feeling manly & protective as a curtain of water cascaded around us, although I was still very much a boy.
I can remember the start, then the fascination, when I saw my first adder basking on the rock.
So many memories for one lump of rock & those only mine.
I wonder how many others it holds.

Looking East from Carn Grey you can see three more Cornish Tors.
In the foreground you can see Helman Tor.  Rear left Rough tor, not pronounced rough but row as in argument.  & rear right Brown Willy from Cornish Bronn Wennili, meaning "hill of swallows".
The Cornish backbone.
With my feet on the ground & my head in the clouds I look forward to 2016.
I hope it's a better year for everyone, especially for those I care for.
I raise a glass to the future.

One last Look at Cape Cornwall.   I know Cornwall is a very popular tourist destination but honestly it's at its best when the beaches are deserted & the weather at its wildest.  Those of you that come here in July & August & just laze on the beaches would be better getting a cheap package to Spain.

On the walk back to St Just I came upon Carn Gluze or Ballowall barrow in English.
I'd walked past it the day before from another angle & just assumed it was another mineshaft.  They build hegdes around the old shafts to stop their livestock falling in.
It was unusual to see a barrow exposed.
All I've seen before have been earthed over for protection.  To see one exposed to the elements was a revelation.

& finally a view back towards Landsend, Sennen & the Longships light with the winter sun breaking through the clouds.

A weekend I will always cherish.
A fitting end to 2015.
Since my Dads death a couple of years ago I've been debating what to do with my life & emigration has been high on my list.
I have felt so despondent about Britain & my neighbours.  Considering seeing more of the world & its nature before its gone is tempting me.
Seeing Choughs, my national bird, above Cape Cornwall has grounded me.
It hasn't made me realise Cornwall is my home & I shouldn't leave but more it's told me wherever I am in the world Cornwall will always be my home.
There's a saying wherever you find a hole in the world you will find a Cornishman at the bottom.
It might be my time to climb out of the hole I'm in & go dig a hole somewhere else.
Kernow Bys Vyken.

Penwith Peninsula

The plan was to catch the train to Penzance, bus to St Just, then walk down Cott valley to Porth Nanven.

Then walk on up the coast till dusk & camp on the cliff tops.            Walking on on Sunday to St Ives then home.

All went to plan to start with.

Porth Nanven.

 A couple at more normal shutter speeds.

 I want you to forget this next one.  When I offer my lightly used & well looked after camera for sale in the distant future you will not remember this photo ok!!  :o)

 So as you can see I spent quite a lot of time boulder hopping & dodging sea spray.  My photo assistants where as ever diligent & guarded my rucksack.  A bag within with three days supply of dog food is a good incentive. 

By the time we walked on up over the cliff evening was already drawing in & light levels dropping so camping & food took priority.

Dawn was still grey but there was more definition in the sky so before breaking camp (phhh sounds like I'm Bear Grylls,  his real name's Teddy BTW ;)) we took the camera & photographed Cape Cornwall & the mine remains in the valley.

 Then back to camp for a quick coffee & pack up before walking on.   Whilst packing the tent I heard some distinct calls that I've heard just once before, & as I looked up seven Choughs flew over us heading for fields not far away.                              Everything got quickly bundled into the sack, the camera & telephoto mounted on the tripod & settings checked.  Two hours later I had taken loads of photos & thought the birds might prefer some privacy.

 

I can't tell you how blown away I was with seeing those seven birds.  For most of my life they have been all but extinct here in their native land.  Prior to recent success the last pair to raise young was in 1947.   By fate & others misfortune the foot & mouth outbreak of 2001 shut the cliff paths & three birds from Ireland dropped in.  Two of which decided to stay & bred the following year, & have done every year since.   Long lived monogamous creatures Choughs.

Fourteen years later there are now about eighty resident birds but still only four breeding pairs. The RSPB monitor & guard every site & hopefully generations to come will be able to enjoy their jinking on the updraughts.    RSPB Cornish Chough Project. 

So anyway by now it was late morning & my chances of getting near to St Ives by evening narrow so Woody & Chip wimped & said lets go back to St Just for an all day breakfast.  I was still to blown away seeing nearly a tenth of Cornwalls Chough population in one go & was to weak to argue.

As always if you click on the images & then right click, view image for full size.

 To be continued.

                                                                             Skytip.
I don't know if that word is universally used to describe these conical mine waste tips.
I read recently there's a place in france where similar hills are revered & protected.
Many of them adorned the skyline around St Austell, to the extent that the area was called the Cornish Alps. but sadly over many years they have declined.
This skytip is also threatened.  A new road has been put very close & land is wanted for development.
Unfortunately profit is more important than history to some.
This tip can be seen from all around the St Austell bay area & many mariners used it as a navigation point before satnav.
I have made it an ongoing project to record the scene in all its moods for as long as I can.