Durweston circular walk
Apr. 21st, 2022 02:13 pm
Some walks look far more interesting on the map than they are in reality. On the map, there are contour lines promising winding valleys and green hills. Paths cross through mysterious woods.
But then, on the day you choose to follow those paths, the sun will be hiding behind high cloud, and there will be a white sky, the worst of light for landscape photography. And the rolling hills that the map promised are covered in the usual huge North Dorset arable fields: doesn't matter what the contours are doing on the map if the whole landscape is under arable.
The walk starts near Durweston Church, which is lovely (I visited it in 2013).


Hard to photograph the cottages - they all have cars parked in front.


Onto a path past the allotments.

Round the back of the village, and up through some horse paddocks.

And along a valley. I was thinking what a lovely bridleway this must be to canter up - but we've had such a dry spring, the ground is already hard underfoot, no give in it at all.

Looking back towards Durweston. The line of an old overgrown thorn hedge runs through the centre of the picture.

Onto a bridleway, which becomes a very boring chalk track running through arable fields.


Barn and bull pen.

The barns at this farm are in unusually good state of repair for a Dorset farm. (Maybe part of the 4,700 acre Bryanston Estate, owned by Viscount Rothermere, proprietor of the Daily Mail?)

Onto a long lane, running through arable fields, under a boring sky.
Nearing a farm, the day is suddenly enlivened when I hear a grunting noise behind me:

Spotty piggies!

Farm at Traveller's Rest.
Along another farm lane, and where the lane dwindles into track, into the woods:

Field Grove. It looks like a promisingly mysterious wood on the map, but it's not. Not ancient woodland. The uniformly spaced trees look to have been planted some time in the 20th century.
But along the tracks, and in a few places where trees have been cleared and the light spills in, there are wood anemones and wood spurge and garlic mustard.




I am scolded by a wren (centre pic).


New leaves and bluebells.


Leaving behind the woods, across one field, and, where four bridleways meet, onto the one that leads back down the valley towards Durweston.


April Oak.

Stopped to sit for a while in a quiet green valley, among the cowslips.
Then onwards, past farms, and back into arable country.



The distances yellow with fields of oilseed rape.

Back down into Durweston, with the neighbouring village of Stourpaine visible across the fields.
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