Thursday 15 March 2012

Wharram Percy Walk

Not quite the morning I'd hoped for when thinking of taking a wander over to Wharram Percy, the deserted medieval village not far from here.  The fog was pretty thick, so it was dank and cold as I made my way to my walk.

The spot you start the walk down to the village has this information board to give an overview of where you're going.


The route down is part of the Wolds Way.  A walk I must have a go at sometime as it passes through some lovely countryside.  I recently spoke to a fella in the village about this and he confessed to having got a little too enthusiastic and completed it in twenty two hours!  It's just shy of seventy miles, so he was fair motoring!

I was much more leisurely.



When not too far from the village I came across these deer prints.  I must get down to the local chemists to see if they sell plaster of paris to get Charlie making casts of the local faunas tracks.



Looking towards two of the restored cottages, these were used by the archaeologists when the dig here was in full swing.  The outline in the foreground shows the plan of an excavated building.  It looks quite big until you realise you would have shared it with cows etc.



This shows the village fish pond which would have provided a good source of protein for a Friday.



A couple of bracket fungi and some Lichen.  I've just re-read H.G. Wells 'War of the Worlds' and this lichen made me think of the red weed the martian's brought with them.



The church of St Martins looking very fallorn in the misty morning light, it remained in use for quite a while after the last tenants had been evicted, the dates on the headstones are as late as the early 19th century.



As you can imagine, this place causes a fair amount of reflection and I couldn't help wonder what the village I live in will look like in a few centuries.  With the inevitable changes the planet will undergo as fuel becomes a rarer and more expensive resource, will the rural landscape change as as a result of folks moving closer to transport networks.  Who knows, our cottage was built shortly after Charles II gained the throne.  If only the walls could talk!

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