Fen Skating

The Anchor at Sutton Gault

We woke up early today to find a heavy frost had covered every twig and leaf with a lattice of crystals. It was about -10C in Cambridge and even colder out on the fens. Despite scruples about wasting petrol just to enjoy myself, I packed a flask of hot water, teabags, bananas and a hot cross bun and set off for the nearest place for fen skating which, according to the daily updated  where to skate web page, was Sutton Gault.

The Anchor pub on the Old Bedford River is the landmark for the skating. All it takes is a few inches of water covering the fields, and a good frost, and you have miles and miles of open air, totally free, skating. In the 1850s it was an incredibly popular sport - the champions were celebrities of the day.  Have a look at this history of fen skating and this fen skating video for more info and to get an idea of what it looks like when there are serious skaters on the ice.

 Today it could have been a classic seaside scene: deck-chairs, flasks of tea and sandwiches, people of all ages skating, playing ice hockey, taking their dogs for a walk on the ice. It was only slightly colder - which didn't stop anyone enjoying themselves.

 Everything was stunningly beautiful with the dusting of hoarfrost. The reeds were humming with birds feeding on the seed-heads. Two swans flew overhead. Coots warmed themselves on the sunny bank. A muntjac deer disappeared into the thicket along the path. I took a picture of some exotic looking birds which turned out to be Egyptian geese. 

I'll be back next year with skates as well as a flask of tea.

Cowparsley with hoarfrost

Egyptian geese

Norfolk in winter

Christmas in Norfolk. Inside: warmth, noise, plenty. Outside: nature back to its bare bones. The fields are empty, just a few birds wheeling overhead, the distinctive skeletons of different trees standing out against the grim sky. In churchyards, dark yew trees seem to bend protectively over the grave stones.
 

fields around Langley Grange

Langley Street at sunset

reed beds at Reedham ferry

Out on the marshes, it's a different kind of  simplicity. Just the water and the reeds for miles around. The only sounds are the rustling reeds and the water gently lapping at the bank. There are no trees for the wind to whistle through. When the sun comes out the light is gentle and golden, and the clouds skim lightly along.

Reedham ferry

But when the sky goes grey with a bank of thick low clouds, it's like a great lid has come down. The abandoned windmills loom reproachfully across the water at us. In the distance, smoke from the sugar beet factory chimney highlights the contrast between the two technologies.

Hadley marshes with the sugar beet factory at Cantley in the background

Water is everywhere: even at the beach there are marshy areas, standing water, low grasses reclaiming land that was once on top of the nearby cliffs.



There are no distractions here. Just the bare elements of Norfolk: sky, sun, water.