Tuesday, 29 October 2013

Autumn Kiln building and other escapades...





I was forced abruptly into a state of hibernation this year -just as autumn was building up to a blaze of colour and glory. It is a mast year. Trees are laden with fruit and berries and I was determined to harvest. We were frantically busy at Hallr Wood with the new term and projects. I was also preparing to go to Bilbau to the European Forest Pedagogics Conference to run a workshop on outdoor learning and living history.
There is always much to do juggling how best to manage the joys and challenges of the groups who come to the wood. We work with many varied and often vulnerable participants. Some have been attending for more than two years and need to be stretched by new ideas.
We had been fortunate to receive Heritage Lottery funding with our local historical society for a living history project building a reconstruction of a Romano- British kiln. The idea came originally from one of the young people who attend. She was often hard to engage. She became fascinated as we dug out clay. When she clamoured to make pottery we were dismissive at first explaining a kiln would be needed. But the more we thought about it, the more possible it seemed. We were delighted to see the whole idea come to fruition this September with Tom Mycock, a recent graduate and Eddie Daughton, experimental archaeologist, who helped us build the kiln with various groups including young homeless adults.




In the middle of this project, my elderly but beloved Fox terrier Poppy died after spending the day in the wood in her basket, suddenly seriously ill.  Poppy had been a key if sometimes troublesome member of the team. She was happy to be carried around by the children and if they were at a loss or struggling to manage their emotions, taking her for a quick walk would often restore their equilibrium.



We carried on somehow and finished the project, feeling her loss very keenly. But the week end firing the kiln, staying over night under a star studded sky was magical and blessed with fine weather. There were various activities for visitors including a Roman re- enactor, mosaic making activities and pewter making with Eddix the Old Boar. Unpacking the kiln with all the pottery that had been made was exciting- there were very few casualties. Our first firing in a primitive kiln made entirely from natural materials found in the wood, was a success.








The following Wednesday I fell and broke my ankle badly during a session with young people. Was I exhausted, careless, pre-occupied? Probably. The ground was slippery and I fell awkwardly but it still seems inconceivable that this should happen. Time since then has been wholly taken up with hospital stays, surgery and surrender to a state of total helplessness. My horizons have shifted drastically as I prepare for life as a bed and sofa bound forest school leader with aspirations to eventually be able to hop-along or even navigate the wood in a wheelchair.


In the six and a half years since I have been working at Hallr Wood, I have rarely spent more than a few days away from it. I can go there with a heavy heart and within moments I am lifted. It is a small wood. It's name means hillside in Norse. It has been filled with energy given freely from many different people. Planning and caring for it has nourished me although there have been significant challenges along the way including a prolonged battle for planning permission. It has evolved as a therapeutic space where children can be children, where they can engage with the natural world secure that their basic needs for shelter and food are met.


It is a place of enchantment; there are fairy glades and carved animals, there is an orchard planted in memory of a 99 year old who loved the place. There is even a woodland stage. It is full of possibilities for learning and engagement. We also have a growing area and most sessions we collect food from our growing area to cook.

I have started this blog as an outlet for my frustrations and to help me cope with my reluctant sedentary status. Such periods are a time for reflection and re-alignment. I am hoping it will help..

11 comments:

  1. Sorry to hear about the loss of your beloved dog and your ankle injury, though every cloud as they say. I really reading your first foray into blogging. It sounds like your woodland is very special place.

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    1. Thanks Michaela - great to see all the interesting things happening for you too..

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  2. Welcome to the enchanted forest of Blog.

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    1. Having a fascinating time looking at lots of other blogs now.. some great stuff out there. Thanks Arthur.

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  4. I found that very moving, Deb. It's made me realise that I've slumped into self-imposed hibernation since my project in the woods has come to an end & that I need to get off the couch and not take my health for granted. Thank you for inspiring me :) x

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  5. love it deb - a moving account good to hear your musings, the magic of Hallr is embodied in the narrative - loved the piccies and kiln.

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  6. Thanks every one for the encouragement..Very appreciated!

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  7. If you feel frustrated, you don't write frustrated, so the therapy must be working!
    A wonderful looking kiln, and pots too. Thanks
    What an October you've had. I think you're right that the enforced change can be a great time for reflection. In the grand scheme we are not always in charge I guess... San Diego Serenade describes, I think, this experience of seeing things differently through change. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_z6w9Z-RHuA
    Haste ye well back to where you want to be.

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