Fun down by the Lime Brook

At lunchtime I walked down to Powers Hill, the old name for the valley lope which leads down behind our garden to the Lime Brook which formed The Horns valley. My friend and near neighbour, Neil B., had told me a couple of days ago that he was intending to dig a pit in the meadow near Crease Gate, where the old way leaves the valley and on into the old part of Stroud.

Neil trained as an archaeologist and is actively exploring the history of The Horns and The Heavens valleys. He has found Roman, medieval and nineteenth century pottery dotted about this landscape which has helped to confirm the results of his research of old maps and documents, mostly from Gloucester Records Office. He has brought in Geo-phys equipment and recently thought some of his results indicated the remains of a building under the ground. He hoped his pit would find some pottery or other indicators, and maybe even a wall.

I spotted him up to his waist near the top of the slope next to the brown heap of sand he had dug out of the pit. Sadly it turned out that there was absolutely nothing other than sand there. We chatted for quite a while about the landscape, its geology and the other finds he has discovered since I last spoke to him.

It was a lovely sunny, though very breezy day and more and more signs of spring growth have appeared to brighten the views. When i left him I walked down to the Brook to examine the old mill site he has discovered which was probably late medieval in age. As the leaves of the trees which grow beside the water have not fully formed, the area is not shaded so I could clearly see the ground and the bed of the stream, where the mill once stood.

I heard the sound of talking and looked up from the deep incised banks of the stream to see Colleen approaching me with some of her six children. They walk all over these valleys every day with their big black Labrador dog, who is very lively and friendly to me. I climbed up to the meadow to talk with her, and we then walked slowly beside the stream to reach the less steep footpath back up the hillside leading to our homes above. At one point, the older boys started climbing up the trunk of a huge fallen beech tree but the two younger boys couldn't manage it. She called to one of them and as he came running towards us from the old tree trunk through a gap in some shrubs, I couldn't resist taking this picture.