Genevieve Rudd

Three Hares Running

Morning walks cheer us

Hares run unhindered in fields

We are one with nature now

Pink sun on silver frost. I see the hares. Out of the oilseed rape, across the ditch, onto the plough. Three hares running, running not crouching in the tramlines or jinking erratically for cover. It lifts the spirits this early morning race. Tugged by sap rising, March hares put life into empty fields. Today they own the landscape. They remind me of the symbol of three hares, the mystical motifs found in Devon churches. Three hares each with two ears but only three ears between them.**

This year I saw them in February and some mornings I would catch them in a dance of eight or nine running and circling. They have woven their magic after a full moon night. Give them space to run and a place to shelter. Three hares running.

It is March at last and after a long winter of flood, snow, frost and lockdown we search for signs of spring. There is warmth in the sun when it appears and the longer days mean that birds are on the move. Winter has stripped the countryside bare. The trees are shrivelled by cold winds and frost, branches snapped, last leaves tossed to the fields. Gales felled hedgerow trees tumbled in a sprawl of ivy. Dried tufts of grasses are flattened by the wind, shrink wrapped against field edges.

This is the ‘Hungry Gap’ – the end of winter when last year’s food reserves are at their lowest but there is still little growth to provide new seeds and insects have yet to emerge.  The Hungry Gap was named by gardeners for this time of year, when all that was left on the allotment were a few cabbages, potatoes and carrots. The winter diet was uninspiring and yet the new crops were only just being set and a long way from providing food.

The yellowhammers have been here most mornings, their cheery song bursting from the hawthorn bushes, a splash of citron caught in first light. There are usually eight foraging on aniseed coated seed that spills from the bird feeders. No reed buntings or tree sparrows now – just two species that have been rubbed out of our landscape.

But we look for signs of hope and March brings one of the first of the spring migrations. On warm moist nights the toads are moving. I organise the toad rota in the village and each night someone goes out to rescue toads who are setting off across the road for their amorous tryst in the village pond.

Toads use the lunar cycle to co-ordinate their gatherings, ensuring that enough males and females come together at the same time. They arrive at the breeding sites, mate and spawn around the full Moon. This maximises their breeding success and reduces the odds of being eaten. But they also need night-time temperatures to be above 5 or 6 degrees.

There is a magic about toad collecting. We drag ourselves away from the fire, take buckets and torches and walk up to the green. A Little Owl calls its mournful whoooo. Pigeons clatter, disturbed from their roost. Dusk falls. The air is quiet. Then a squeaking call from the ditch. Toads emerge, tentative, a face peering from grass verge, venturing onto the road, heading for water.  For an hour we follow a route round the pond and down the side roads from where toads are emerging in ones and twos. Some are already paired up. ‘The bucket dating agency’ one of my patrollers says.

We count males and females, frogs, newts. Some nights we collect hundreds and remove those we didn’t manage to save from passing cars. Gently they are released into the rippled depths of the pond. The torch spotlights them. Some make off, strong kicking back legs, needing to make up for lost time. Some hang there, floating, back legs splayed, remembering the feel of water after a winter in earth and wood.

There is much to enjoy about the coming of spring, the feeling of release as the cold and the dark lose their grip on the countryside. Armed with camera, notebook and pen I try to capture the sights and sounds, smells and tastes of March.

**The story of the search for the three hares motif is told in a book published in 2016 https://www.newscientist.com/article/2082809-the-three-hares-motif-is-an-ancient-mystery-for-our-times/

Figure 1 European Hare: Piet Munsterman

Recollections of some of Waveney & Blyth Arts’ projects in the last ten years

Yes there will be a time when we can run events, open galleries and studios, join walks and workshops. Until then – let’s remind ourselves of some of the amazing activities that W&BA has created over the last ten years.

What better way to start than Finding Paradise. Devised by Simon Raven this trail of artworks, each portraying a letter from the word Paradise, was laid out along the two river valleys in 2015. It celebrated the landscape of the Waveney and Blyth valleys and the creative work of some of our members.

Let’s reprieve the Paradise Pilgrim who set out that summer to find the letters hosted by arts venues. Here are some extracts from the slightly tongue-in-cheek diary:

One August day I set off in pursuit of capital A. This required Paradise Pilgrim to leave the gentle headwaters of the Waveney and, like an otter in search of new territory, head cross country through villages such as Metfield and Linstead. In less than an hour I arrived in Halesworth to start my search. The Cut, Halesworth’s arts centre and theatre, is welcoming all sorts of boffins on the day I arrive. Part of its science café season, the foyer is full of displays about antibiotics, soil, compost and the value of eating broccoli. Having tried broccoli soup, explored renewable energy options and tasted tea and carrot cake, I finally tracked down capital A and was told that I was not the first person to come looking. You could say that by now ‘I was hooked’.

Figure 1 Capital A at The Cut

After successfully tracking down the E, I could no longer be chasing the tail of paradise but set off in search of dragons. As dragons begin with D and so does Diss, it was a simple decision to find Designer Makers in the Heritage Triangle, as this part of Diss has become known. Stepping across the threshold, there were old friends from Diss Corn Hall and, as in all good quests, a guide came to our aid – print maker Annette Rolston. Annette showed us round the tardis like interior. There were necklaces, knitted goods, stained glass, mosaics, prints, finely crafted clothes and willow baskets. It was a true emporium of artistic talent. The whole concept of Designer Makers is that not only do people work together, making unique and beautiful objects, but the public can come and buy direct from the makers and see how the pieces are made.

But what about the dragon? It truly epitomises the spirit of Designer Makers; several of the artists contributed to its design and construction and there it was, coiled, sleeping, suspended on a wall.

Figure 2 D at Designer Makers

I am nearing the halfway mark on the Paradise Trail which takes me away from our market towns to a village easily bypassed on the A143 – Brockdish. I am killing two birds with one stone for not only is Brockdish playing host to Paradise ‘I’, it is the venue for August’s Arts and Eats. The Old Kings Head, a fourteenth century pub at the centre of the village, was bought last year by brother and sister, Jonathan Townley and Louise Lees. After complete refurbishment it now offers not only the traditional bar and restaurant but a café serving cakes and cappuccino – always a hit with Paradise Pilgrim, who has been known to navigate the county on the basis of the best coffee shops. Joined by Jonathan’s wife Vicky, an art teacher, the pub now offers an art gallery and a venue for some creative activities.

It was not difficult to locate I, startling, vivid, well-padded and set amongst paintings, not too far from the cakes!

Figure 3 I in The Kings Head, Brockdish

I found an opportunity to track down P in Bungay. It was the Doggerland workshop – Words on the Edge – that lured me this far along the Waveney. Venturing further down this valley into the little market town, home of the Fisher Theatre, I indeed felt like a fisherman. I was hoping to catch P hooked up in the Gallery upstairs or hanging above the coffee machine. Imagine Pilgrim’s own slough of despond on discovering that the theatre is closed on Sundays. The P went unstamped.

And now comes the sad conclusion – I can see no way down the Waveney and Blyth rivers before the trail ends on 30^th September (2015). Paradise Pilgrim has therefore drawn the search to a close and admits to only collecting an IDEA of PARADISE.

Figure 4 Only an Idea of Paradise

But for all pilgrims there remains one opportunity to see all the letters in a row. They are on display in the bar of the Swan Hotel, Harleston.

Figure 5  The Paradise letters assembled

CREDITS

Trail devised by Simon Raven

Artists:

P          Malcolm Cudmore on behalf of Black Dog Arts, Bungay

a          Paul Osbone of Papershaker, Great Yarmouth

R          Caroline Reeder and members of Lowestoft Arts Group

A          Members of Inspired by Becker Art Society, Wenhaston

D          Dragonmakers@21, members of Designer Makers @ 21, Diss

I           Lin Patterson on behalf of Harleston & Waveney Art Trail

S          Ron Fuller on behalf of Craftco, Southwold

e          Members of Eye Arts Guild

Paradise Pilgrim text and photographs – Melinda Appleby