a rock to stand on

Walking from Hitchin to Wellbury

Spring arrives in Hitchin Streets. I used to dream of foreign places, but these days of lockdown have made me appreciate just how much natural beauty there is close to home.

You can pass the same scene every day for much of a lifetime and then suddenly see it in a different way. Woodside and Windmill Hill, and the hollow path that leads to the entrance to The Dell, a woodland hollow, formerly an old sand pit. In the nineteenth century the hill and Woodside were parts of the Hermitage Estate, owned by Fredrick Seebohm. With the opening of the Great North Railway, Seebohm gave some of his land to the town for the building of a new road (Hermitage Road). At this time Nightingale Road was little more than a muddy track and the only access to Walsworth Road was via the narrow Portmill Lane. This took travellers through the slum area that existed down by the river at that time. And yes there was once a windmill on the top of Windmill Hill. It was a timber built post mill, and like many post mills it eventually burned down. Reports exist of local people forming a human bucket chain all the way up the hill from the river in an attempt to dowse the flames, but to no effect.

I caught the first signs that the bluebells were in flower before I had left Hitchin. Here they were in little clumps in a stand of trees adjacent to Priory End

The track to Preston on the stretch between Brick Kiln Lane and Maydencroft Lane.

Tatmorehills Lane. As the lane drops down into a dip it sinks well below the level of the surrounding fields. It takes centuries of tramping feet to hollow out a lane like this. The path was once a busy thoroughfare between Hitchin and the village of Preston. All kinds of folk would have used it: medieval farmers making their way to Hitchin's Tuesday markets; Gypsy horse traders; farm labourers going to and from the fields; itinerant peddlers; women taking their 'scores' of straw plait into town for the Luton hat factories; and in the second half of the nineteenth century, men who worked on the new Great Northern railway at Hitchin Station.

Ransoms (Wild Garlic) in the hedgerows at Tatmorehills, now in flower. It is closely related to onions and chives. Folk herbalists value it as a remedy for a multitude of complaints. It's free food: all parts can be eaten. It tastes like onions, and the leaves are good in soup.

All along the hedgerows clumps of bluebells were in flower. Tatmorehills Wood had a good show. But the first real woodland carpet, I found here in the spinney between the Preston Road and West Wood.

There are pheasants galore this year in the fields adjacent to the woods where they roost.

A solitary blossom tree near West Wood. A thin line of bluebells persists where the hedge has been grubbed up. Normally there would be hares in the field to the right in March and April. I have seen none here this year. The parish boundary between Preston and Kings Walden lies along the raised grassy area in the foreground (formerly a line of hedge). This side of the tree is Kings Walden, the far side is Preston.

An off-road cyclist passed me on the track, and turned right up along the margins of West wood. He stopped under the blossom and spent ten minutes staring at the bluebells in the wood. Who wouldn't?

Bluebells in Goodley's Wood. Goodley's wood is continuous with West Wood and is the corner nearest Offley.

Curious spring lambs near Cornelius Wood

Bluebells in Cornelius Wood

Approaching Harris Lane and the village of Great Offley, where King Offa of Mercia is said to have established a palace in the eighth century. He fought several battles in the neighbourhood against Beornred, a rival to the throne. Despite Offa's propaganda, it is likely that Beornred was in the direct line of descent and Offa was the 'usurper'. In those days, however, the succession was legitimised not by birth but by strength of arms, so Offa's defeat of Beornred gave him the throne by right.

The grounds of Offley Grange, now a conference centre. I occasionally attended meetings here when I worked for the local authority. It's interesting how different it looks to me now that I can view it as a private person, not a 'corporate' official.

The Green Man pub at Great Offley with its magnificent chestnut tree.

The land around Birkett Hill, looking out over the plain towards Royston. The seasons and the changing light play wonderful games here with the landscape.