Ballaglass

Season of Mists . . . 

Monday 23rd September 2013

It is that time of year when the seasons are changing and we don’t know whether to expect late summer or early autumn.  Monday fitted in very nicely with Shelley’s vision of autumn.  It was definitely a season of mists but I am not so sure about the mellow fruitfulness – unless you count the handful of blackberries that we found in the hedgerows.

The forecast was “Cloudy at first, with hill fog and coastal mist and fog.” But it was even damper than expected and we arrived at Ballaglass in fine drizzle and started off through the dripping trees.

We stopped to discuss a tall conifer but were unable to identify the tree because the leaves were so high that they were above the canopy of broadleaf trees.

It felt like good toadstool weather but the only fungi that I saw were these curious bracket fungi growing on an old decaying log.  I think the new growth at the edge is white while the centre is possibly darkened by algae.

We took a short detour to photograph a small ruined cottage and when we reached the old lead mine buildings we found Trevor photographing spider webs on some gorse bushes.  The webs were decorated with tiny water droplets.  There were so many webs that I wondered whether it was an infestation of gorse spider mites but we had a close look and they were definitely spider webs.  I found some more webs on a fuchsia nearby.

We passed the little stone bridge which carries the electric tram tracks over the Cornaa River and then climbed the steps past the tiny station and walked up a farm lane.  The mist was still clinging to the hillsides.

When we reached a lane leading towards the coast.  Trevor turned off and said we were going to Cashtal yn Ard.  I was a bit dubious.  We have walked along this route in the past, and it is described in John Kitto’s book “Family walks on the Isle of Man”, but it is actually a private road to a house which used to be derelict so nobody minded if you walked past.  But a few years ago the house was renovated and people are living there now.   Trevor said he thought it would be all right because the occupants were likely to be out at work but our discussion was interrupted by a woman who drove down from the house and stopped to speak to us.  She asked where we were headed and Trevor replied “Cashtal yn Ard”.  Either she took pity on four damp old hikers, or she fancied Trevor, because she said that we could walk along her drive “this time – but it is a private road”.  It was kind of her - but there was an understood subtext “Don’t do it again!”

Cashtal yn Ard is one of my favourite megalithic burial sites but I didn’t want to write too much about it after getting rather carried away by the Ballakelly stones last week.  So I thought I would just copy out the information on the Manx National Heritage sign and find a link to a longer description on the internet for anyone who is particularly interested.  But I found out more than I needed, or even wanted, to know.

I knew that the site had been excavated and most of the original cairn was missing.  I have a Manx Museum booklet which states “When first recorded in the earlier part of last century (19th) the cairn was rectangular or slightly trapezoidal, about 100 feet long and about 4 feet high, revetted by post-and-panel walling.  The walling, most of the cairn material and some of the orthostats were removed in the middle of the century for housebuilding.  The site was excavated by Fleure and Neely in 1935.”  But I didn’t realise the extent to which many of the remaining stones were a reconstruction.  It is rather disappointing.  You can find the rather lengthy report by Fleure and Neely at http://www.isle-of-man.com/manxnotebook/history/arch/aj16n4.htm

The concise description on the sign reads: 

CASHTAL YN ARD

REMAINS OF BURIAL SITE

OF NEW STONE AGE

CIRCA 1800BC

ORIGINALLY COVERED BY GREAT CAIRN OF

STONE WITH SEMI-CIRCULAR OPEN

FORECOURT AT WESTERN END.

A PORTAL FROM THE FORECOURT LED TO

FIVE BURIAL CHAMBERS WITHIN THE CAIRN.

The forecourt.

The burial chambers.

As we made our way from the stones to the road along the official footpath, we passed this little cottage.  It looks as though it has been mouldering away under its burden of ivy for hundreds of years but Dorothy had an old friend, Harry, who died a few years ago and he could remember when people lived in that cottage. 

Dorothy told me a bit about Harry.  He had been a farm manager and shepherd but was a talented musician, writer and painter.  That generation had to create their own entertainment in the pre-TV and computer age.  Now we spend far too much time staring at screens and fiddling with a mouse!

It was still rather gloomy but there was a little patch of brightness in the east which looked promising.  We walked down the road towards the shore at Cornaa pausing to photograph some more dew-spangled spider webs with the trees on the other side of the river in the background . . . 

. . . and a surprising solitary, drooping stem of goldenrod which didn’t look very happy on the damp shady bank.

We could hear shouting from across the valley and assumed that there were a group of young people exploring the river.  The tide was so far out when we reached the shore that there was a vast expanse of shingle. I was able to take this photo from the base of the cliffs where the river usually flows out to sea.  There was so little water that it was seeping through the stone beneath my feet.

As we approached the bridge which leads to the footpath through the Barony Estate, we passed the group of youngsters that we had heard from the other side of the valley.  They were all kitted out in wetsuits, life jackets, hard hats . . . the works.  It never ceases to amaze me how much equipment one needs to do the simplest things these days.  I must be getting old.

I was a bit puzzled by this new structure made of decking which replaced an old rotted wooden stile.  There used to be a fence and a gate, so the stile had a purpose – but the fence and the gate have both gone.  All that remains is the fine Manx slate gatepost.  I hope that survives if they intend replacing the gate.

Further up the track we were entertained by a robin, which wouldn't pose long enough for a photo, before passing a field with a couple of horses, and then coming across these rather tatty loaghtyn with rather magnificent horns.

And then we returned to the car park along the lower path through Ballaglass Glen.  It was rather surprising to come across this fellow, clasping a “Fairy Tales” book.  He had recently been carved out of a massive tree trunk.  It was probably a beech, judging by the logs littering the vicinity.

  

I am not sure how I feel about these statues which are becoming more common.   I think I prefer the authenticity of the remains of this old flax mill near the stream.

The sun finally emerged as we drove home – but it didn’t last long and the season of mists returned.