Category: Lake Field

Lake Field: Autumn to Winter

1/1/2017

Mild weather lingers as the leaves turn golden - then the days shorten, mists smother the valley, and frosts coat the grass.

We had fine weather through most of October. The colours only started turning in earnest towards the end of the month and, because there was very little wind, they stuck around for a while. Much to my disappointment, the ponies moved out of Lake Field in November. At first we thought they might have been relocated for bonfire night (a very big, very rowdy night in Battle!), but then a sign popped up informing us that they'd done their bit for Lake Field and the National Trust was moving onto the next stage. This involved felling a patch of sycamores from the edge of Lake Field to the left of these photos. Apparently there used to be allotments here. I'm not sure when they were established or when and why they were left to overgrow, but they must have been disused for a couple of decades judging by the size of the trees.

October

A lovely autumnal mist to start the month. You can't really tell, but the sun was blazing in a blue sky above!

Ponies continuing to enjoy the lush grass, the trees barely showing a hint that it's well into autumn already.

A warm sunset lends the leaves a golden glow.

A faint green wash across the field by the white house as the new crop emerges. A distinctly autumnal look to the scene, now.

November

Pretty much the last photo I have of any of the ponies, grazing the dew-coated grass in a heavy fog.

The glorious colours of an autumn morning and a frost on the ground. The season turned quickly in November.

From one week to the next, strong winds blew away the best of the autumn leaves. Winter is coming!

But still, we had some delightful sunny days. The crop opposite is flourishing.

December

A sunny day, but long shadows in the afternoon indicate that the winter sun is riding low in the sky.

Since the clocks changed, we only really get to see this view on the weekend - we leave for work in the dark and we get home in the dark.

December didn't feel as cold as November, but it was definitely wintery: lots of close, grey, damp days. It doesn't stop dog walkers, though!

The frost on the 30th of December was impressive, but I chose to photograph the very last, misty morning of 2016.

I hope you've enjoyed this year-long photo series about Lake Field as much as I've enjoyed taking the photos. It's been interesting to see the seasonal changes wash across this one view and exciting to document the National Trust works in and around Lake Field. I certainly wasn't expecting so many changes when I began the project.

A Year in Lake Field
Winter to Spring - Spring to Summer - Summer to Autumn - Autumn to Winter 

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Lake Field: Summer to Autumn

2/10/2016

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After a glorious late summer in East Sussex, the year begins to sink softly towards autumn.

The grass is cut for hay and the crops are harvested. In the pastel mornings, mist hangs in skeins over the fields. But the most exciting news from Lake Field is the arrival of some new residents: three Exmoor ponies! The ponies were preceded by a bit of work by the National Trust, including new fences and gates. While people are still able to enter the field, this infrastructure should keep loose dogs away from the ponies. The ponies seem to be quite a hit with passers by, who can often be seen leaning on the fence to watch them. I count myself amongst the gawkers - I'm pretty happy with our new neigh-bours! (I stole that pun from Dan.)

July

Golden morning sunshine and a field of high grass. Summer.

And hey, look, the old barn (middle right) has come down.

The grass in Lake Field has been cut for hay. Loving these honey coloured mornings.

The grass on the middle hill has also been cut and the hay's been baled and taken away.

August

We were away for a couple of weeks. When we returned, the grass had turned green and the bean crop in the distance was turning brown.

Actually, that bean crop in the field below the white house was making it difficult to use the footpath. The farmer is constantly over-planting this path.

Can you see something at the bottom of the field, behind those stalks of grass in the foreground? What could it be?!

It's fence posts and the fence is going up! (This might have been the first week of September - I can't remember!)

September

The fence is completed and the field is ready for ponies!

And Autumn has arrived. September had some amazing sunrises and beautiful mists in the valleys.

Ponies! We wondered how long it would take them to graze the grass until it was noticeably shorter. The answer: about two weeks.

More ponies! And in the background, the beans have all gone. Harvest season.

A Year in Lake Field
Winter to Spring - Spring to Summer - Summer to Autumn - Autumn to Winter 

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Lake Field: Spring to Summer

22/7/2016

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The season changes quickly. After the long, bare months of winter and the held-breath pause of early spring, suddenly life returns to the world.

One month I'm studiously keeping track of each new sign (daffodils, crocuses, primroses), the next it seems that everything comes at once (willow leaves, nettles, oak leaves, wildflowers, migrant birds, lambs, calves, plenty of wild food). The transition into the abundance of early summer is less noticeable at the time, though on reflection the visual cues are there in Lake Field and in the trees and farmland beyond.

April

The fields near the white house have been ploughed and, presumably, sown.

Damp spring mist hovers over the hills, dew clings to the grass.

Ready, set, go! The trees are beginning to burst with pale green and yellow leaves.

Blue skies make a welcome return after a fairly grey month.

May

The roof has come off the barn (photo right), presumably as part of the work on the holiday lets.

I'm never sure when seasons start or end (in reality, rather than on a calendar), but this is definitely full-blown spring!

Cow parsley growing tall, grasses springing up, crops shading the fields in green. Can you spot the first hawthorn blossom?

May was a gorgeous month - lots of sunshine along with some rain - and it shows in the astonishing growth all around.

June

Grasses and wildflowers are taking over. Note the red (sorrel, dock) and yellow (buttercups) haze in the middle field.

After a glorious May, June was cool, damp and muggy. In this photo, the grasses bend under rain and the trees are tossed by the wind.

More wind, less rain - one of the few sunny days this month!

June stayed in character right to the end: rain, fog, drizzle, mugginess. The grass is very tall, but the seed heads are getting old and tired.

What markers of summer (or winter) are you observing in your patch at the moment?

A Year in Lake Field
Winter to Spring - Spring to Summer - Summer to Autumn - Autumn to Winter 

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Foraging for Sorrel (and a Recipe)

29/4/2016

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April's Outdoor Bloggers theme was "from your own front door", a challenge to explore the world within a mile of your house. As you might remember, Lake Field is just around the corner from me - and not only does it have a lovely view, it also contains one of my favourite springtime foraging herbs: sorrel. Sorrel is easy to pick in decent quantities, great to eat fresh in sandwiches and salads and delicious in soup or risotto.

A patch of common sorrel in Lake Field.

Jack-by-the-hedge, or garlic mustard. How did that get in here?

Spring has truly arrived (this week the weather has been turning on a penny from snow showers to bright blue skies) and we're in the middle of the first foraging glut of the year. This month I've seen loads of wild garlic, primroses, stinging nettles, dead nettles, Alexanders, Jack-by-the-hedge (a.k.a. garlic mustard) and, you guessed it, sorrel!

How to identify common sorrel

Common sorrel tends to grow in pastures rather than in hedgerows or woodlands and at first it can be tricky to spot: unless you're looking for it, you probably don't even know it's there. However, once you've found a patch, the likelihood is that there's more growing very nearby. It's perennial, too, so you should be able to return again and again to forage more (don't take too much from one clump, though, because you don't want to kill the plant).

I've found quite a bit of sorrel in Lake Field, a few patches in other nearby farms and loads of it on the bank in front of the car park at the church just up the road. Sure, sometimes I can feel the puzzled gazes of passers-by on my neck as I scrabble about in the wet grass, but I'm getting a free meal out of it, so . . .

A rather unhelpful picture of sorrel in an old wildflower book.

Young sorrel leaves are a medium to dark green, while older ones tend to get flushed with red. The leaves are slightly shiny, and have a thickness and texture a bit stiffer than spinach. They are usually long ovals, anything from a few centimetres to a few inches long, sometimes a bit crinkly. They often have little round holes where bugs have eaten them. The best visual identifier, though, is at the base of the leaf: there is a pointy lobe on either side. These point back down the stem, although they tend to curl up, so you might need to unfurl them to get a 100% identification. If the lobe is not a point, it's not common sorrel. From late spring, sorrel flowers make identification even easier: tall red spikes that pop up above the surrounding grasses.

A patch of sorrel in Lake Field.

One of the first sorrel flowers to stick its head over the parapet.

Obligatory note of caution #1: Be careful not to mix up other leaves in your bag or basket as sorrel does sometimes grow mixed in with other plants. Don't confuse sorrel leaves with the leaves of Lords and Ladies or lilies that may grow alongside them - they're toxic. Finally, as with any plant you pick from ground level, especially in a popular dog-walking spot like Lake Field, give your sorrel a thorough wash before you eat it!

Sorrel (with the red flower) and definitely NOT sorrel (everything else).

A patch of sorrel near the local church.

What sorrel tastes like

The taste is the final identifier. Sorrel has a tangy, almost lemony flavour. I love the way it makes my mouth water when I chew on a leaf. The citrusy element makes fresh sorrel a great flavour addition to wraps and sandwiches (with hommous, or egg, or roast vegetables). When it's cooked, it reduces and turns limp and brownish. I also find that the tanginess becomes slightly more subdued. Add sorrel at the end of the cooking process to retain more of the flavour.

A line-up of sorrel leaves, showing variation in size, shape and colour. They're wet, hence the glossiness.

Obligatory note of caution #2: The tanginess of sorrel is due to its oxalic acid content. I've never had any problem with this, but you might want to keep your first intake to a handful of leaves rather than baskets of the stuff. An overdose of sorrel (which from my limited research probably means eating a large plateful of it for every meal) could make you vomit or, more seriously, have a heart attack. So don't do that.

Recipe: Tangy, Wild, Green, Springtime Risotto (catchy name, right?)

As with most of my recipes, the quantities listed are approximate. It might be that you need more liquid - so use more liquid. If you like a cheesier risotto, use more cheese. If you like more garlic, put more in. If you want to eat more veggies, add them. If you're vegan, use a vegan cheese or add a few tablespoons of nutritional yeast flakes and/or a ground up dried shitake mushroom for umami. However. While the ingredient quantities are flexible, you do need to pay attention to the timing: have everything ready before you start and be prepared to stir the pot almost constantly for the entire process. Here's a good risotto primer. And here's one of those Guardian "How to make the perfect..." experiment articles on risotto.

Ingredients

2 tbsp vegetable oil
1 onion, chopped as finely as you can be bothered (not very fine, if you're me)
2 nice big knobs of butter (or vegan margarine)
250g arborio or carnaroli rice
Half a glass of dry white wine (have some more on hand for the cook!)
1 litre vegetable stock (1 litre water, 1 or 2 stock cubes), hot
1 cup frozen peas
A few stems of asparagus (trimmed, cut into 1 inch lengths)
2 cloves garlic, crushed
A big bunch of sorrel, washed and roughly chopped
A handful of other wild spring herbs (e.g. wild garlic, Jack-by-the-hedge), washed and finely chopped
A handful of parsley, washed and finely chopped
100g cheese (soft goats cheese, or a mix of gruyere and cream cheese, or parmesan, or anything you like)
Juice of half a lemon, zest of the whole lemon
Freshly ground black pepper
Salt

Method

Prepare all your ingredients in advance. Make sure the stock is warm, the lemon is zested and juiced, the cheese is grated.
Put a large saucepan on medium heat and add the oil. Fry the onion gently, stirring frequently, until it's translucent. Try not to let it brown. This usually takes a minimum of 5 minutes, even if you're impatient like me.
Melt one knob of butter (or vegan margarine) with the onion then add the rice. Turn up the heat and stir the rice until it's all coated in oil and begins to go translucent (a minute or so).
Pop the wine in with the rice (it will hiss!) and stir continuously until all the liquid has evaporated. Turn the heat back to medium-low.
Start adding the stock, one ladle at a time, stirring after each ladleful until the rice has absorbed the liquid. This will probably take around 15 minutes. The low temperature helps ensure that the rice doesn't overcook on the outside and become mushy while the inside is still crunchy and undercooked. (If you're making a vegan risotto, add your umami about half way through this process.)
When you've only got a bit of liquid left and the rice is almost done (just on the crunchy side of al dente), add the peas, asparagus, crushed garlic, lemon zest and the rest of the stock. I try to add these early enough so they have enough time to cook, but not so early that they'll be limp and brown.
Turn off the heat, stir in the spring herbs and parsley. Add cheese (if using) and second knob of butter/margarine. As it's melting, stir briskly to up the creaminess factor.
Just before you dish it up, mix in the sorrel (reserve a few small leaves for garnish), a squeeze of lemon juice and pepper and salt to suit your taste The sorrel is added at the end of this recipe so it retains more of its tangy flavour and stays greenish.
Plate up, using remaining sorrel leaves for garnish. Eat that deliciously tangy risotto!

Of course, I don't have a picture of the risotto. So here's another sorrel leaf. I hope you like it.

Do you have any favourite wild spring foods? What are you foraging for at the moment? And what wild (or almost-wild) food can you find within a mile of your front door? (The supermarket doesn't count!)

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Lake Field: Winter to Spring

25/3/2016

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I feel very lucky to live in such a beautiful place. Just a few steps from my front door, there's a delightful view over fields and a little valley to a white farmhouse opposite. A footpath leads diagonally through the scene, inviting me to walk up to the ridge beyond. It's hard to believe the footpath gate lies only metres away from what is, essentially, the high street.

The view is particularly special because it's protected. Lake Field, the slope in the foreground, is owned by the National Trust. As the sign says, "The National Trust was able to acquire Lake Field in 1938 and so preserve the view to the north through the generosity of Mrs C.E. Chartsworth, Mrs M.E. Quarterly, Mrs D. Tuck and Miss D.E. Noakes." In the spirit of their generosity, I thought I'd document the view over the course of a year and share it here so you can enjoy it, too.

January

A typical, overcast, drizzly winter day. Out of scene, last year's crabapples cling to the trees.

Late morning light, low in the south, makes the white house stand out.

Taken the day after the previous picture, this was the most snow we had this winter. Mmm, chimney smoke!

February

A hint of pink evening glow relieves the evening of total drabness.

A lovely, clear, sunny February day. Note the bales of hay in the fields opposite.

A thick layer of frost, a light mist hanging around the hedges, and golden morning sunshine over everything.

Almost all the hay bales have disappeared.

March

I'm not sure I got the framing quite right on this one! A thick fog that lasted all morning and into the afternoon.

Proper blue skies. The primroses and crocuses are out (not in scene) and I foraged my first lot of this year's sorrel in Lake Field.

The farm on the far right has started converting buildings to holiday lets. Lake Field has been mown. The hedges and willows are showing hints of green.

Are there any views, trees, gardens or other places near where you live that you use to mark the seasons?

(P.S. Here are the follow up posts: Spring to Summer, Summer to Autumn and Autumn to Winter.)

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Lake Field: Autumn to Winter

October

November

December

Lake Field: Summer to Autumn

July

August

September

Lake Field: Spring to Summer

April

May

June

Foraging for Sorrel (and a Recipe)

How to identify common sorrel

What sorrel tastes like

Recipe: Tangy, Wild, Green, Springtime Risotto (catchy name, right?)

Lake Field: Winter to Spring

January

February

March

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In which I archive