It's Snowy!

It is January the 20th, 2013. Snow has covered the whole of Britannia. It’s just below zero and nothing and nobody seems to be moving. What an excellent day for a 6 to 7 mile walk to the Hanningfield Reservoir. The walk itself is an invigorating winter experience: the snow pounding on one's face; the fresh air circulating through one's lungs. The “Great Outdoors” can really work wonders for one's health!

From this spot I can look west to Downham Church,
which today looks a like a spectre rising up from the white mist.

So this is what you will see here. Enjoy the atmosphere!

• Introduction
• The High Road to Downham Church
• Hanningfield Reservoir via Crowsheath Wood
• Homewards I tread
• Postscript
  
  
• Contact, Copyright & "Readme"

The High Road to Downham Church

The walk starts on the bridle path leading to the Grange. Bridle paths take their name from equine connections and today can legally support walkers, horse riders and vehicle drivers - but being un-metalled, are not every car driver's cup of tea. The bridle path I am taking was probably an old drovers' road. In the Middle Ages, and earlier, main travelling routes across the country often took the high ground, so as to offer some protection to the traveller against rogues, vagabonds, thieves and highway men who might lie in wait and pounce unexpectedly.

In that respect, we probably live in safer times. So I reach unscathed the entrance to the Grange. The Grange has a chequered history. It is a rambling Edwardian pile, built for the Keddie family, who grew wealthy on the income from their store - suitably named Keddies - in Southend. It passed in sucession to a number of owners including a snow board manufacturer with connections with southern Italy. One knew when he had guests from that part of the world when the surrounding area would be decked out with notices proclaiming "Parcheggio" to help the guests from the deep south. The present owners appear to own a company of highway and motorway contractors doing work for local authorities.

From outside the entrance to the Grange, one gets the first glimpse - through the snowy mists - of Downham Church, whose history is anchored in Tudor times. To the left of, and down the hill from, the church is Downham Hall, bearly visible from here today in the snowy mist. The significance of church and hall - clergyman and squire - was very great in days of old, for together these two individuals would hold sway in the local community, keeping all and sundry in their social station. The First World War would cement a passing of this centuries old rural order.

From the Grange, I pass Downham Rectory, and the site of the former picturesque traditional signpost, to reach Downham Church itself. This time-honoured place of worship perches on a prominent spur jutting out into the landscape which rolls away to the Thames. On a clear day - but not today - it is possible to see from the churchyard the hills of Kent trying to hide beyond the distant oil refineries.

The old drovers' road - now a bridle path - ...




... twists ...




... and turns ...




... high above the surrounding snowy landscape ...




... until I reach the entrance to the Grange.




From this spot I can look west to Downham Church, which today looks a like a spectre rising up from the white mist. To the left, just out of the picture, is Downham Hall. This was the mediaeval axis of local power: the church and the hall, the priest and the squire, the sacred and the secular.




And here is Downham Church, whose red brick Tudor tower has presided over human comings and goings throughout the centuries. A sequoia has come all the way from the New World, as if to protect and stand guard over this time-honoured building.




A wreath on one of the gravestones adds a serious note of festive sadness to the scene.




Here is the tomb of the Brewer family.
The Brewers were influential farmers hereabouts in the 1830s.




Downham Hall nestles in the fields just below Downham Church. In English villages the church and the hall (where the squire lived) were often close together, not only to cement the axis of local power, but also to make it convenient for the squire to attend divine service on a Sunday or other holy day.




The churchyard is graced by a suitably gnarled and venerable tree, a "500 year old pollarded Field Maple with a girth of 5 metres", or so the notice on the lych gate proclaims.

Hanningfield Reservoir via Crowsheath Wood

Dodging the tobagganers enjoying their winter thrills on the sloping field near the church, I do a "down and up" across some fields and reach Downham village itself. The village, like so many other villages in Essex, is some way away from the village church. Before the age of the car, Sunday worshippers often had to show their devotion by walking to church.

The affluent village of Downham was originally in the domain of the De Beauvoir family, whose French name is one of many in the South-East and probably harks back to Norman times. The village sign near the pond proudly displays the De Beauvoir Arms, but the nearby and erstwhile pub of that name has now become a restaurant specialising in Asian dishes.

One must look carefully to find the footpath leading to Crowsheath Wood, which has been dedicated to the public by a generous land owner. The winter snow paints majestic silvery-white wonders in Crowsheath Wood - a veritable photographer's paradise.

Eventually I reach Hanningfield Reservoir, formed in the early 50s from a natural valley in the landscape. It was built with the aim of providing a reliable water supply to at least 1.5 million inhabitants in South-East Essex. It does this by taking water from the rivers Chelmer and Blackwater. The price for this was the destruction of several farms, a hamlet and a Jacobean manor house. The preservation of history was not seen as that important in the immediate post war era. However, as a sweetener to the locals, a nature reserve, a Visitor Centre, a Fishing Lodge and, of course, actual facilities for fishing, were all incorporated into the scheme.

After a very wet 2012, the reservoir is full. The wind whips up waves in the water. The ducks and sea birds at first look a bit dejected, bobbing up and down on the stormy water. All changes, however, when a beneficent couple come along with lots and lots of bird feed. What an avian commotion! What an excellent photographic opportunity!

On the way to Downham village, I look back to Downham Church. The cars in the church car park did not belong to devout visitors to the church. More secular thoughts were on the car owners' minds, and indeed, much fun is being had by all in the field on the other side of the road from the church. Grass is sticking up through the snow, but this does not deter the enterprising young - and not so young - of the locality from getting up speed down the slope using toboggans, sledges, or whatever comes to hand. On other occasions, I have seen old suitcases and kitchen trays hastily drafted in for the snowy thrills.




"Down-town" Downham is a hive of affluent houses, a far cry from the erstwhile rural village dwellings which did not make it into the modern age. Here is a nice scene by the well kept village pond which is full of water lilies in warmer seasons.




Only a thin covering of snow has fallen, but it's enough to give everything an air of magic.




The road leads on, via a partially hidden footpath, to Crowsheath Wood, which has been dedicated to the public by a generous land owner.




An coating of silvery winter magic ...




... has transformed the woodland ...




... and creates beautiful "paintings" at every step as my boots crunch through the snow.




A short while later I come to Hanningfield Reservoir which looks rather quiet today.




Only a few ducks are bobbing up and down on the waves.




Appearances can be deceptive. Should you think that Nature is taking a deep sleep today, then have a look at this "mini-film". Allow your browser a few seconds to load the film. However, if your browser still makes a dog's dinner out of this "mini-film", don't dispair, but click here and hopefully you'll find a way around this!




A contradiction in terms methinks! Indeed, somebody from the Visitor Centre must have braved the weather and got here to post the second, less official but still well prepared word-processed, notice! Perhaps today is not the only day when - apart from Christmas - the concept of "Daily" takes on a somewhat modified meaning!

Homewards I tread

The return walk follows a more direct route, but still takes in Crowsheath Wood and the Grange. The hill in North Wickford is another favourite with tobogganers and sledgers, and their joyous cries and shouts echo in my ears on the final homeward stretch.

The return path leads back through Crowsheath Wood. Some water has got onto the camera lens, probably while I was taking the videos at the reservoir. The water on the lens soon evaporates without my intervention.




Here's another view, from the entrance to the Grange, of Downham Church making its ghostly debut in the silvery landscape.




I'm almost back home now, but not without the sounds of excitement of the tobogganers on the hill in North Wickford resounding in my ears. This hill is another favourite with tobogganers and sledgers and those willing to try an available tea tray or retired suitcase (the modern suitcases don't seem to be so robust as those of old). The grass is still poking through the snow, but this does not deter the determined enthusiasts of impromptu winter sports.

Postscript

This was an invigorating way to spend a Winter's Day. Far nicer - if your physical health allows - than sitting in front of the "goggle-box" and watching other people exercise themselves! After all, it was only six or seven miles today and in addition to the exercise, photographic opportunities availed themselves galore. It was definitely a nice way of striving for mens sana in sano corpore! I can certainly recommend it!