Cornaa

Ballaglass/Cornaa revisited

 

Wednesday, 22nd May, 2013.

 

Two walk messages from Dorothy last weekend.  First "Trevor suggests we meet at the car park Glen Mona and walk Ballaglass Cornae from there.    The bluebells should be fully out now."  and then "Just had a phone call and Trevor can't walk Monday, I can't walk Tuesday.    Would Wednesday suit you."  Three weeks ago we did a similar walk because we wanted to photograph the marsh marigolds - but Ballaglass is famous for its bluebells so it was worth another visit. 

 

When we arrived at Glen Mona we were confronted by large red signs which threatened clamping if anyone except hotel patrons used the car park.  So we decided to do the walk upside down, and drove down to the shore at Cornaa.  Dorothy was happy and pointed out that the last part of the walk would now be downhill. 

 

The tide must have been half way in judging by the water level behind the shingle bank at Cornaa.

 

I stopped to photograph this sea campion (Silene maritima) growing on the shingle.  It is quite common to find it growing  by the paths near the shore but it is more unusual to see it growing amongst the pebbles.

Then Danny and I had to rush to catch up with the others who had started up the road to the ford.  At the ford we took the footpath to the main road near the hotel.  I hoped to photograph some pink purslane along this path but the only plants that we passed looked rather miserable, and the flowers were small and barely open. 

 

When we reached the hotel we turned north along the road which used to be the main route between Ramsey and Douglas before the Mountain Road was built.  We were more exposed to the wind up here and had to hold onto our hats to stop them blowing into the road.  We passed another old chapel which has not been in use for many years, the Ballagorrey Primitive Methodist Chapel.   http://www.isle-of-man.com/manxnotebook/methdism/chapels/bgorrey.htm

 

A few yards past the chapel we turned to the right and followed the track to Ballaglass.  This is the view of the east side of North Barrule.  Our house is in the glen on the west side of the hill.

It was quite hot walking along the sheltered, sunny lane so it was pleasant to turn down the steps leading to Ballaglass glen and to walk along next to the river.

 

There were patches of wild garlic (allium ursinum) growing in the moist soil.  There is a theory that the name of our local town, Ramsey, is derived from "rams" a Scandinavian name for wild garlic.  The plants are still called ramsons in England.

The others headed straight up a path towards the best bluebell areas but I took a short detour along the river to visit the old lime trees.  My dictionary says that the colour lime green is so named because of the colour of the citrus fruit but I have never seen a really lime green lime.  I don't think there can be a better example of lime green than the new leaves on the lime trees.  The common name of "lime" has apparently been in use for centuries to describe these trees which may be either Tilia platyphyllos or the hybrid Tilia europaea.  The name "lime" is possibly a corruption of "line" originally from "lind" as the trees are also called "linden".

Danny and I walked up to find the others.   A lot of the bluebells were looking a bit anaemic.   The spectacle of the sun shining through the new leaves of the canopy was more impressive than the flowers below.

The trees that dare to be different are the ones that stand out from the crowd.  My eye was caught by this horse chestnut.  The longer I stared at it the more it looked like a ballet dancer, balanced on one leg with the other bent behind and arms outstretched!

We found some better bluebell flowers in an area where  the older trees were felled years ago and the younger trees may be letting in more light. 

 

The photo above was taken with the normal automatic setting.  I have always been frustrated by the camera's inability to capture the true dark blue - with just a hint of purple - of the bluebells.  The photos are always too pale even in the shade - and the sunlight bleaches all the colour.  I tried some different colour settings.  The photo below was taken with the elegant setting - still not quite right but a bit closer.

 

We left Ballaglass and took the footpath down to the Barony.  There is a trout hatchery by the river in the valley on the south side of the footpath, and a couple of houses and some fields.  A few years ago there were goats living in these sheds and later we used to see a couple of ponies in the fields but they appear to be unoccupied at present.  I took this photo because of the magnificent copper beech which stood out against the varying shades of green.

The wild cherries which were in bud three weeks ago are full of blossom now.

And then it was back into the shade of the big beeches at the Barony.

Just before we reached the bridge I found a good patch of pink purslane growing in a sunny spot by a stone wall.  The sunlight spoiled the photo - apart from this little sprig of flowers which were in the shade.  Pink purslane (Montia sibirica) is a North American plant, a garden escape, but is listed in the wild flower books.   In Britain plants have been transported from Europe for so long that it is sometimes difficult to determine if a species is a truly native plant but these flowers arrived in the 18th century and are fairly recent immigrants.   The difference between indigenous plants and exotics is probably more clearly defined in the "new world" with a shorter history of gardening and importing plants.  

 

Devil's Elbow

The Cormorants are nesting!

 

Wednesday, 15th  May, 2013.

 

The weekend walk email from Dorothy read "The plan from Trevor is that we start from the Devil's Elbow and make our way down the train track and have a look at the Cormorants on our way.     ( I plan to fetch my proper camera.)           When we drag ourselves away,   I think we then go back a short way to the bridge where we go back to the coast road and take the road with the very long steep climb that goes towards the Staarvey.     Then turn left up the track past the Very Big Posh New House and back to the Glen Mooar.   Back to the railway line, with a look at the Cabbal Pherick chapel and buriaL ground.      We had a slide show/talk about things Manx and spooky and it included a photo of this ancient site.   Which looked well worth a visit. 

   

"The plan from yesterdays weather forecast.  Thinking Monday and Tuesday had showers.  So a Wednesday walk looked a bit better.     Well, now the Weather Forecast has changed, and Tuesday looks not too bad.       Shall we keep to the Wednesday plan and hope for the best?"  

    Well, we walked on Wednesday - but all three mornings were good, which will surprise those who think we live in a land of permanent grey skies and drizzle.  I didn't take a dog because dogs and birds are not a good combination - and, although I found the route difficult to decipher, it sounded as though the walk might involve a bit of trespassing. 

     At this time of year, part of the pleasure of the walks is the drive to the meeting place.  Spring 2013 has been more miraculous than most - probably something to do with "a pleasure deferred".  Last time we drove down to the DIY shop, south of Douglas, I regretted leaving my camera at home.  The flowering cherries at Sulby and Ballaugh were a mass of blossom and the new leaves on the trees alongside the road were variations on shades of brilliant green.  On Wednesday we started along the same route and I tried snapping as we drove along.  The Sulby cherries were slightly past their best but as we passed the turnoff to the Glen Wyllin camp site, we drove through a pretty green tunnel.

The Devil's Elbow, where we met, is a kink in the coast road between Kirk Michael and Peel where the road turns sharply inland to traverse a little glen, Glion Cam.   There is a picnic area and parking on a flat area where the valley has been filled in to take the road; and an old slate quarry on one side. 

We started off along the coast road in a northerly direction, heading for the steps down to the railway line by the bridge.  This was a great relief to me.  After reading Dorothy's message, I had a horrible premonition that Trevor planned to climb down the extremely steep side of Glion Cam and scramble on down, through fields of sheep, to the old railway cutting below.

After leaving the road we walked south along the railway line for at least a mile and a half.  The mud wasn't too bad, we were sheltered from the wind and the banks were lined with gorse and blackthorn blossom.  There are new leaves on the hawthorns but they are not flowering yet even though they are sometimes called May flowers.  Everything is late this year.

This is the part of the west coast of the Island which suffered worst in the late snow.  There were reminders along the route.  Branches on willows and gorse had been split and twisted, making me think of the expression "greenstick fracture", and the weight of the snow had peeled the ivy from this old bridge.

Our attention was diverted for a while - trying to identify a small white butterfly.  I have seen orange tips in this area before and thought it might be a female.  Cuckoo flowers (aka lady's smock or Cardamine pratensis) a main larval food source grow in the marshy ditches at the side of the path.  Eventually our butterfly settled and we got a good view of the underside of the wings.  It was a green veined white.

We reached a gate into a field and turned down towards the sea.  This part of the coast is a series of isolated coves with steep grassy banks above the rocks and deep indentations where little streams run down to the shore.  Trevor was unsure about the exact location of the nesting colony of cormorants so we did a bit more up and down scrambling than was strictly necessary.  When we reached the right grassy headland there was a fine view south to Peel.  The birds had moved back to the cove where they nested in the spring of 2009, the first time Dorothy took us to see them.

Tim's camera isn't as good as mine for zoom shots, so he decided to wait in a sheltered place while the rest of us struggled across to an exposed ridge where we had a better view of the birds below.  Most of the nests were on the large rock at the bottom of the slope on the left of the next photo.  We lay on the grass, bracing ourselves against the buffeting gusts of wind and trying to keep our cameras steady while taking zoom or telephoto shots of the birds below.

This was my first photo of the cormorants.

In the distance they look black but close-up, and with the sun shining on their feathers, you realise how colourful they are.

One mother appeared to be a bit absent-minded!

But I liked this devoted couple.

It was hard to leave the birds.  They were perfectly relaxed and seemed to be oblivious of our presence.  It will be tempting to return when they are more active.  Perhaps when they are feeding their babies . . .  although Dorothy says that cormorant nestlings are extremely ugly.

We returned to the railway line and turned inland - up the Cronk-y-Voddey road to the junction with the Staarvey Road (Dorothy's " very long steep climb") - and then walked north.  There were violets and primroses on the grassy banks by the road.  Also lambs in the fields - but they are half-grown now and no longer as cute.  Then we saw some calves but they were just sunbathing - not a very photogenic occupation.  We were debating whether to continue to Glen Mooar or to take a short cut down to the coast road near the Devil's Elbow.   We decided on the short cut but got distracted by a brief sighting of a red admiral butterfly . . .  and the views across the north of the Island towards the Scottish coast in the distance . . . and missed the turning.

There was another footpath down towards the coast before we reached Glen Mooar and we decided to try it.  We had never walked down this path before.  I had been told in the past that it was not a "recommended route".  It wasn't as bad as I expected.  May was probably the best time of year to use this path.  It could be too boggy in winter and too overgrown in summer.  We were intending to join up with the railway line near the ancient site which Dorothy wanted to visit (which wasn't Cabbyl Pherick but turned out to be the standing stone at Ballacarnane) but we must have taken a wrong turn at a junction in the path and ended up walking south instead of west, first along a defined track between hedges and then along the edge of fields . . . anxiously searching for the next footpath sign.  We lost the path when we reach the old Ballacarnane Beg farm buildings, but Trevor was interested to see an old, abandoned chapel.  He has lived on the Island since he was a child but had never come across this chapel before.

Most of the windows were boarded up but we found one at the back of the chapel which was partly broken and we were able to look inside.  The old pews and altar table were still inside with a jumble of other old furniture.  When we got home, I searched for information about the chapel.  The only clue was the date 1833 on the front of the building and the fact that it was very close to Ballacarnane Beg.  I had no luck, although I did manage to find some information on the old stone that Dorothy wanted to visit.  Then I tried using the name of another farm, to the south of the chapel, in the search and struck lucky.  It turned out to be Kerrowglass Wesleyan Methodist Chapel.  According to the internet "It was built by John Cannell (who was trustee) on his farm land and would appear to have remained private property as on closure (c.1963) his family locked the doors leaving it just as it was left at the last service.  According to the 1851 religious census it would seat 92, average attendance 60 with 36 Sunday School scholars."  The same article also said that the chapel was closed in 1932.  Perhaps there was a period of about thirty years between the last service and when it was officially closed.

The good news was that while we were snooping around the back of the chapel we found some more footpath signs at the side of a gate.  We continued on through more fields, one occupied by cattle.  They tolerated our presence in their field but we were glad to find this little bridge across a stream, and only one more field to cross before we reached Lower Skerrisdale farmhouse and the right of way down to the coast road.

Back at the Devil's Elbow we were greeted two even more colourful birds.  They seemed disappointed that we were not planning a picnic.  They weren't there earlier in the day - perhaps they are only on duty at lunchtime.

It was a memorable walk even if it didn't go exactly to plan.  The cormorants lived up to expectations.  And even though we didn't pass the "Very Big Posh New House" which wasn't actually on our planned route, and we didn't find Dorothy's ancient site  . . .  we did walk along a "new" path and we did find an interesting old chapel.

The Cronk

The butterflies are back - but they are camera-shy!

 

Tuesday, 7th May, 2013.

 

I had such good intentions about not interfering in the organising of the walks when I handed over to Trevor and Dorothy.  But I had just been reading the weather forecasts when I got the weekend email from Dorothy "Trevor would like to walk North Barrule on Tuesday.      The weather forecast isn't good for Tuesday, but as usual it could be a better day when we get there."  The forecast most certainly wasn't good.  They predicted extensive hill fog, strong winds and heavy rain.  I couldn't resist replying "I am not sure whether North Barrule on Tuesday will be a good idea.  Great exercise . . . but it might be a better idea to go up there when we can enjoy the views.  As you say, the weather might be better when we get there - but it might also be a good idea to have another option in mind in case it isn't!"

 

Trevor phoned later and said they had decided to change to a beach walk from Ballaugh.

 

On Tuesday morning I thought of phoning Trevor and saying "Let's do North Barrule."  There was barely a cloud in the sky, just a gentle breeze, and we could see the top of North Barrule from our front windows.  The earlier forecasts couldn't have been more wrong.  But I thought of Dorothy, recovering from a bad cold . . . and my poor legs, recovering from a day in the garden on Monday, mowing and weeding.   The lazy option was too tempting and I decided not to interfere again.

 

It turned out to be the hottest day of the year.  We set out from the parking place at The Cronk and there was dog drama before we even left the car park.  A couple of large unruly dogs came running up from the beach and decided to play rather roughly with Danny.   Poor Danny was horrified and ran for his life but the big dogs were too fast for him, knocked him over and pinned him down.  I fended them off with my walking stick and Tim managed to rescue our poor little old man and carried him down the beach until we were a safe distance from the over-boisterous dogs.

 

We strolled down the beach discussing whether the tide was coming in or going out until I got left behind.  I get distracted by too many insignificant details . . .  like the cross stitch footprints of the oystercatchers on the damp sand.

 

 

. . . and trying to see whether the birds swooping over these wind-sculpted sand cliffs were swallows or sand martins.  They were too high to see clearly and impossible to photograph but they appeared to be taking an interest in some small holes at the top of the cliffs - so they were probably sand martins, back from wintering in equatorial West Africa. 

 

 

 

. . . and admiring some colourful seaweed left on the beach at the last high tide.

 

 

 

. . . and also admiring the tenacity of the coltsfoot (Tussilago farfara) which manages to survive in the most arid of conditions on the cliffs.  I was disappointed that there were only seed heads and buds on display and wondered whether the flowers would open later in the day when they were no longer in dense shade.

 

 

 

Then I wasted some more time trying to decipher some gull activity.  They were gathered in a couple of large groups, too far from the shore to see clearly.  They may have been attracted by fish in those areas - or perhaps they were just resting on the water waiting for the tide to turn. 

 

Closer to shore were three birds which looked rather like ducks.  It took me ages to identify them positively when we got home.  I eventually discovered that they are juvenile male eider ducks.  The adult males are quite different - with spectacular glossy black and white feathers.  But these juveniles are probably in the process of moulting. Tim suggested that we just call them "Scruffy ducks."

 

 

 

Just before we reached the footpath up through Glen Trunk, I stopped to photograph the beach with Peel Hill in the background. 

 

And there was a second dog incident.  I didn't notice that Tim was pointing down the beach.  He was trying to direct my attention to Danny who was acting in a rather confused way - running up and down by the cliffs.  Danny's eyesight isn't as good as it used to be and he hadn't seen me standing in the shadows - and thought he had lost me.  After taking the photo, I looked around for Danny and called him - but he appeared not to hear and suddenly panicked and started running back down the beach in the direction of The Cronk.  He must have decided that I had returned to the car.  I pursued shouting at the top of my voice.  I had a dreadful vision of chasing him all the way back to the car park but he did eventually hear and looked back and saw me.  I kept him on the lead for the rest of the walk.

 

 

 

At the beginning of the path up to Glen Trunk, I found a nice little coltsfoot flower.  Trevor was busy photographing some of its distant relatives - dandelions.  They were very pretty, growing amongst the bright green grass but I ignored them because I have more than enough dandelions trying to invade the garden.

 

 

 

The path through Glen Trunk was lined with banks of gorse and the day was hot enough to release the heady, coconut scent.  I saw a couple of small white butterflies, the first I have seen on a walk this year, although I have also seen one or two in the garden.  I couldn't identify them because they were flying and I can't tell one small white from another unless I can see the underside of the wing.  Tim said that Trevor had seen a peacock - which put my small white sightings into perspective.  But later in the walk I saw another white butterfly and small tortoiseshell at the side of the road from Orrisdale to the Cronk.

 

 

 

From the road to Orrisdale we could see the last of the snow in a deep gulley on the side of Sartfell.

 

 

 

. . . and then it was a long walk in the warm sunshine back to The Cronk.  The fields are emerald green now.  A patchwork of green divided in places by golden gorse hedges.  As we approached the group of houses at The Cronk I took a photo over one of the hedges, which was growing at the top of a grassy bank sprinkled with white stitchwort.  The Jurby church is on the right and I think the building on the left at the top of the cliffs is a disused Coastguard lookout - but it may be something left over from WW2.

 

 

 

I wanted to take a photo of the crooked gateposts at Ballaugh Old Church but we had fallen rather a long way behind  Dorothy and Trevor on account of my fruitless butterfly stalking.  I did my best to get a photo - but the butterflies didn't cooperate.  So we walked back to the car to say goodbye to the others and then Tim stopped by the church on the way home.  I was rather flustered because the road outside the church is rather narrow and there wasn't much room to park.  I didn't get the gateposts from the best angle and also cut off the top of the bell tower.  I shall have to try again.  But this is a slightly better photo of the church.  The big nests in the trees behind the church belong to some very noisy rooks.

 

 

 

Danny is the last dog standing as far as long walks are concerned.  Leo retired after developing trachea problems and Alex had digestive problems after his last long walk.  It may have had nothing to do with the walk but I am getting neurotic about old dogs and their health problems - so Alex has been excused from the hikes in future. 

 

I usually make my bed before I let Danny out of the study in the morning because I know what he is like.  On Wednesday morning I didn't keep to the usual routine because I intended changing the bed linen.  When I went to give Danny his breakfast he was comfortably stretched out on my bed with his head on the pillow.  I rushed to get the camera but of course he moved before I got back.  He was in a silly, playful mood - burrowing under the top sheet and rolling around.  He doesn't seem to have suffered any ill effects from the drama yesterday.