Dull as Dishwater (The Westbury White Horse)

I received a delightful notification from Blip HQ that some very generous soul, a co-Blipper, who wanted to remain anonymous, has so very kindly gifted me a year's full membership!! How wonderful is that?? I so wanted to thank this person, but cannot, as I do not know who they are, but I'm pretty sure that they'll be reading this, so here is my sincere thanks to them! Virtual hugs and kisses! (as long as that's appropriate! lol)

Westbury White Horse Walk from Warminster, along the Imber Range Perimeter Path.

Why, why oh why did I choose a morning, with a non existent sunrise and another murky misty nothingness to go walking along some of the most ancient ridgeways with stunning views, when you cannot see them!!

It might have been because I had been glued to the computer for most of yesterday and so I was just itching to get out and stretch my long legs? It might have been because it was only meant to be a few miles stroll around Warminster - my return train ticket to and from that town indicated such!

Having been on the climb to Arn Hill Down, alongside the golf course, almost two years ago, I pretty well knew where I was going. This time though, instead of several hours, I reached the point where I had previously turned round to go back into Warminster, in a matter of minutes...

I kept telling myself that the gloopy dreary greys hid subtle shapes of the rather nice hills - which they did, it's just, however long a lens you use, they ultimately just don't look very interesting. Next thing, I'm rubbing shoulders with the main bulk of the Ministry of Defence's 'red flag' Salisbury Plain.

I find it slightly strange, what with all the very big and very loud notices notifying of Firing Range, Keep Out, Instant Death (OK, not that last one), all the areas are such sweet looking farmland, with cows grazing, or lovely rolling, unspoilt meadows and downland. Not odd that the MOD don't want us on their land, but that it all looks so innocent and innocuous, though we know that deep within, military exercises are being undertaken.

Anyway, down a hill and then, for a major public footpath, surely the steepest possible, at least locally? I reckon the gradient must have been one in two and half, the point where one is not quite scrabbling on all fours, but not far off. And not for a few metres, either, but half a mile! OK, not all of it was that steep, but certainly seemed as though it was!

This lead to the main ridge that goes along to Bratton Camp, where the White Horse is carved into the escarpment. Up on Upton Cow Down, at 199m above sea level. I did spot through my long zoom an abandoned lookout tower and 'buildings' way down in a dip, deep in MOD territory. Such do feel like the Cold War and like that and its remnants, such serve as just skeletons from a rather unpleasant era.

Eventually, after many miles, I went past what was marked on the map as a chalk pit. A high fence and copious shrubbery precluded views, let alone photos, but in a couple of places, this pit was more akin in size to the China Clay open cast workings around St Austell, in Cornwall, that I had 'accidentally' found myself looking at, about ten years ago.

Which is probably how long ago I'd made it up to the White Horse - so no digital photos. I had been up on a glorious sunny day before and I had planned a return for a long while. A certain Blip co-subscriber (*coughs* Amanda!) has been putting me under pressure to get my arse backside back up there for quite a while.

The Horse is westerly facing and I had planned a late afternoon visit, with lots of gorgeous warm (as in orangey) light and getting an absolute gorgeous image for you all...It's marked up as 754 ft above sea level, with splendid views of the cement works and its very tall chimney.

Which leads me to this - and its feeble colour RAW original. Sky was white, with no tones of grey. No polariser - no point! and handheld.

LARGE

When you are up this close to the Horse, and at this angle, which is from the next fold in the hill along, in a field with Accessed land, long horned and inquisitive brown sheep, you realise that the Horse's outline looks rather odd. Zoom in with a telephoto and it looks even more odd, as if a child with no grasp of perspective had scrawled it.

The Westbury White Horse looks bloody gorgeous from a distance, such as when travelling by train, on the Cardiff to Portsmouth (via Salisbury) train. It has to be said that the outline one sees now is not original. It was re-cut in 1778.

There is usually disappointment when you tell people that the white of its body is now no longer chalk. And a sense of having been cheated. It has now been infilled with whitewashed concrete. How awful!!!

Well no. As many will know, chalk quickly goes grey, then green, as weeds and such poke through. Then those weeds become bushes and trees. Soon, you don't have a horse at all! The Pewsey White Horse is now 'green' and is almost invisible.

The Westbury White Horse is huge, covering a huge height and area. So, volunteers wisely, in my opinion, went for the long term, modern solution and now we have a sparkling, gleaming horse that will last a LOT longer than it would have done before. The slope is also VERY steep and working on it must have been quite precarious, so best done just the once.

So, I wanted a foreground. I wanted a full-blooded Bill Brandt type of menacing, brooding black and white. I'm kneeling on a slope that if I toppled, I would have bounced all the way down. It is STEEP. I had to pull myself up from this point by pulling on the grass itself.

Food, or the need for it, finally forced me down, past the Police rifle range and the signposted mile and a half was extended by Westbury train station being a mile on the other side of the town itself. My feet, well, sore spot on the underside of one of the little toes, really got painful, as I clomped through boring industrial estate and main roads to get there.

I had to buy, of course, a single train ticket to get me to Warminster - not that it was checked, of course! and then my return Warminster to Salisbury back home. I listened to Traffic's John Barleycorn, on the Ipod. The train had its heating on. My bare knees warmed up. I couldn't believe how far I'd walked and done in just six hours...

Took almost as long to write this text - and no, I am not going to apologise for its length, either! Tolstoy didn't!

Lens is Nikkor 10-24mm

Official Westbury White Horse website

Going to soak my feet now! Have a great Friday, everybody!