(Considerably More than) Nine Men's Morris

I was just returning from my usual cup of tea and read at Rumbles Cafe on the Park, when I came across a tremendously colourful kerfuffle of ribbons and music at Oscar's pub.

It was a Morris Dancing performance, celebrating the bringing in of the hops.

"The Morris" is attested as far back as the 15th Century, but within the performance are elements of the celebration of life, death, and fertility that go way further back than that. I watched three sides in action, two of which seemed to be of the Cotswold school, and a third from the Border tradition.

When you watch it, and I hate to keep bringing this up, it is easy to be reminded of the more sinister folk traditions explored in "The Wicker Man" film; indeed some Morris does incorporate a hobby horse and a fool in drag rather like the film. There were violent moves, fierce banging of sticks, and what almost could be regarded as a dance ending with a symbolic beheading. There was none of your bells and hankie stuff of legend, this was far more powerful.

Playing in addition to the usual instruments was the strange and powerful call of the hurdy gurdy.

The weather was perfect for it; the sun shone down out of a sky that an hour before had been thick with mist. At 4pm I went cycling to the cafe again, and the mist emerged from the ground again in the space of five minutes. It created a wonderful soft light for me to read Ursula K. LeGuin by.

I didn't run or cycle properly. My back is twingey, and I feel somehow guilty for wasting the day.

Si

All text and images copyright CreamCrackeredNature 01.11.15

Some long stick dance

Steven Frisby swaps Steampunk for Morris

Border Morris

Much ale was being consumed

A more traditional outfit

Badges

Performance

Dancing commences

Chap with the flower seemed to be the leader of the dance

Promenade

Some serious stick to ground bashing

Beheading

A fresh side

The symbolism of the sashes and ribbons is beyond me

Hurdy gurdy practice

Band in action

Gillespie Park, Islington

On Sunday 20th October, while having a little break with my sister in London, I got frustrated with the city imposed sequestration from nature, and decided to head up the rose from my sister's fourth floor flat, and visit Gillespie Park, a nature and ecology centre run by the Borough of Islington, and created in the 90s when common use parkland came under threat.

No site could ever be more urban, it is enclosed on one side by a railway line, has Arsenal Football Club's enormous Emirates Stadium complex on its doorstep, and everywhere else the flats and houses of Islington, Highbury and Finsbury Park surround it. And yet here it is, this beautiful oasis of green  - and on this day, vivid purple thanks to the late flowering aster flowers - ready for people to enjoy in central London.

And enjoy it they were, Gillespie Park being another example of my favourite thing, of open public space being used constructively for all reasons. A couple of retro clad women were dancing for a photo shoot. A group of Polish lads sat talking on a bench enjoying the reasonably warm day. Families were out with pushchairs and little bikes with stabilisers. Personal trainers and their huffing and puffing clients. An old couple of who rescued a slow worm from the path and put it safely amongst the leaf litter.

Closer in, there was an attractive nature garden area, and a little further off in another direction was a pond that on a warmer day promised emperor dragonflies. Wooded areas were filled with birdsong, and still there were bumblebees, pollinating the asters away as the sun came out for a a time.

The centre building itself offered tea, and really rather good cake, binoculars for viewing birds on the garden feeders, and space for community happenings  - on this occasion a clothes swap. Programmes of events detailing fungi walks, music festivals, and meet ups for older deaf folk were all over the walls, as was the centre's pride in its green energy initiatives.

I loved visiting, and urged my sister to do the same, to me it is a far nicer spot for a walk than the equally well used, but more sterile, Highbury Fields. It's just a lovely little spot!

The centre itself - nice cake not pictured

Asters

Ummm, I forgot

Dance in the aster meadow

My first slow worm

Emirates stadium, between my sister and the park