Post 19/2022 Saturday 7 May . . . The South West Coast Path into St Ives takes you through a narrow street named the Warren. Holiday lets, second homes, and some permanent homes line each side of this narrow, one-way passageway, teaming with people, dogs and the very occasional car, construction or delivery vehicle.
The dwellings along the Warren offer unparalleled views of St Ives harbour, the Island, Downalong (home to fisherfolk families in the day of pilchard fishing), Smeaton’s Pier, Godrevy lighthouse, and the Atlantic beyond. Lovely, lovely, lovely, life along the Warren, as elsewhere along the north Atlantic Cornish coast.
We’re cracking right along through the alphabet as we count down our stay in the UK. I’ve relied heavily on definitions from The Penguin Dictionary of Natural British History.
“Warren. The burrows of a rabbit colony.” (A handy definition for other maze-like formations, including streets).
We’ve seen the rabbit colony that’s part of the Marazion Marsh, not up close, but from across the dry-stone hedge. It’s good to see rabbits cavorting in their own private preserve–not at the mercy of gardeners such as Mr. McGregor, the gardener in Beatrix Potter’s The Tale of Peter Rabbit.
I’m all in favor of communities that are working at rewilding parts of the environs they manage. Some homeowners are even leaving generous strips of their lawns unmown to benefit insects, birds, butterflies and other living creatures. Saving endangered wildlife stands the world in essential good stead.
“Xerophyte. A plant adapted to growing in dry conditions, e.g. by reduction of transpiration, water storage, deep root systems, etc.”
Etc.? Why not? The definition flows right into the next word: “Xerosere. The natural succession of vegetation on dry soils.” Bravo nature! xx
Braving the elements
One day this past week we braved the colder temperature to take an open top bus tour of West Penwith (the farthest south west district of Cornwall) and on another day to do a group walk in the rain.
We hopped off for lunch in St Just and then hopped on a later bus to finish the trip back to Carbis Bay.
On Sunday we joined the All Saints Walking Group (“called to be saints…” Romans 1:7) for a rainy, drizzly Fellowship Walk in a circular from the village of Ludgvan to Marazion, along Mounts Bay and back through fields to Ludgvan.
Both bus and foot experiences proved exhilarating, memorable, satisfying. Let photos tell their own story.
Feast Day service at Towednack Church
The annual Towednack Feast is held the nearest Sunday to April 28 (May 1, this year). The church shares its patron saint, Winwaloe, with the Abbey at Landevennec, Brittany. Towednack is a joint benefice with the parish of Zennor. The Bishop of Truro, the Rt. Revd. Philip Mounstephen was the guest preacher.
Sunday Fellowship Walk (1 May)
Glimpses from other walks
Enys Gardens, near Penryn
Steve and Marilyn Bowden took us on a day outing to Enys Gardens (and to Glendurgan Garden). Finding Enys is not the easiest task in the world; Steve stopped at a building site to ask directions. The builder sent us confidently on our way, remarking, “These roads are like warrens around here.”
The bluebells at Enys are believed to be undisturbed since ancient times. Enys is considered to be the oldest garden in Cornwall. The estate includes formal gardens, an apple orchard, ponds, New Zealand Garden, meadow walk, pine reforestation, and the wonderfully evocative Stumpery.
Glendurgan is owned and managed by the National Trust. Its lushly-covered ridges and valleys run from north to south into Durgan, a hamlet on the Helford River. We have memories of first passing through Durgan in the fog as we walked the South West Coast Path from nearby Mawnan Smith to Falmouth. Ah, memories and the making of new ones.
From field and road
On our way to lunch at Una Restaurant–through a bridle path and Laity Lane–we came within talking range of several horses and saw a fox make off with its prey.
As I was going to St Ives
I saw flowering bushes, the sea, the town from afar, the Warren, but met no man with seven wives, as the ancient riddle goes, “Each wife had seven sacks, each sack had seven cats, each cat had seven kits. Kits, cats, sacks and wives, how many were going to St Ives?” On Friday, two.
Boots on for another adventure–maybe even warren-like.