Barrow Man

A week later we gathered beneath the copper beech. Each tin was opened slowly. Inside lay our charcoal. Hard.
Soft. Blue-black.
Others carrying a faint golden sheen. Even the tins had changed-
their interiors studded with tarry black bubbles that Isa couldn't resist popping with his fingers. Only then did we remember to draw. Tree → wood → charcoal → mark. Circle complete. On leaving we scattered a little charcoal beneath the beech that had sheltered us. A small gift in retur

"This is the moment the wood changes state." Steam escaped from the tiny holes drilled into each lid. Inside the tins, wood slowly surrendered all except carbon. Around the fire there was conversation...
tea...
waiting... "Next week we'll discover what happened."

Once, moose stripped the bark of wild maple
foraging for its sweet under-layers through winter. Our own gathering was gentler. Sycamore peeled easily.
Its wet, soapy wood revealed beneath the bark. Stems were cut, packed tightly in a tin and made ready for fire. A reused shortbread tin-
still carrying the image of a moose. Almost by accident, the story came full circle.

A small experiment beneath the trees. A thin shaving from a Horse Chestnut twig placed in water. Within minutes the liquid began to glow under ultraviolet light. An effect of the natural compound, aesculin found in its seeds, bark, leaves, flowers, twigs and sap. Even now, the tree continues to reveal unexpected properties. There may be future Barrow Man experiments with light.

A small experiment beneath the trees. A thin shaving from a Horse Chestnut twig placed in water. Within minutes the liquid began to glow under ultraviolet light. An effect of the natural compound, aesculin found in its seeds, bark, leaves, flowers, twigs and sap. Even now, the tree continues to reveal unexpected properties. There may be future Barrow Man experiments with light.

Dandelion Root Coffee ‘It tastes’, said Annette, ‘of vegetation’ ‘and bitter’ said Gill Roots ran deep

About a tree or three Murmuring fizzes, pops, ticks ‘Morse code’ from silent partners ‘A gentle shoosh of a waterfall’ They wrote.

On Saturday a small research team conducted comparative bark texture analysis through surface mapping techniques to trace the outer bark morphology of participating tree species. A knotted world of interconnected forces partially grasped. Participants: Waheeda, Hazel, Gill and The Barrow Man with Dawn Redwood, Walnut, Kanzan cherry, Crimson King Maple and Weeping Ash.

David enjoying his walk Robin his run. Paused by the barrow Admiring the park

Neil showed me Willow Springing shoots From a fading trunk Can it lend itself to artist’s charcoal?

Wandering, looking listening. On a cold morning. Spring can't be too far away

Artist Waheeda Kothdiwala will assist me in delivering the project and we are looking forward to sharing ideas. Last week we spoke about oak galls and ink.

The Crow Nest of the 1880s shown in this map, is surrounded by dour Victorian terraces, many back to back. The park was created and opened to the public in 1893 and the area had little changed when I arrived off The Eightlands Road in 1954. Our family were moved away in 1965 when many of the smoky stone streets were demolished. The park was our only green space in a tightly knit warren with no trees or gardens. It's interesting to look back, to be back and to look forward to

By the Pond we fed the swans. It’s been happening in this park for over one hundred years. What’s our relationship with the swans today?

At the old hawthorn by the pond. Nancy said her Irish dad used to warn her to never damage a Hawthorn tree, use its dead branches or bring their flowers into the home as it brings bad luck. There might be crock of gold buried underneath it but you'd come into troubles if you dug it up! We gave it a green ribband.