tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-91930822102957894032024-03-05T08:21:56.594-08:00Into the WildInto The Wild was a site-specific performance project created by Dudendance with over 40 members of the local community in Huntly to celebrate the Battlehill Woods before a third of it was felled. This blog contains posts of interviews with residents, who remember the woods from their childhoods, a specially written piece by Oliver Rackham OBE and a detailed journey of the project.Dudendancehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00701421412367152804noreply@blogger.comBlogger78125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9193082210295789403.post-74622071836271561072017-09-04T04:00:00.001-07:002017-09-04T04:00:36.660-07:00OUT OF THE WILD for YES 2017Dudendance are currently in Selkrk working at the Haining Woods<br />
with local teenagers. We are making a new version of the piece to<br />
suit the location which is a small woodland next to the Haining House<br />
in Selkirk town, Scottish Borders.<br />
Performances: 16th and 17th Sept. 3pm, 4pm and 5pm<br />
Meeting point - outside the Haining House.<br />
Wear suitable footwear for a walk in the woods.<br />
www.yesartsfestival.com<br />
<br />Dudendancehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00701421412367152804noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9193082210295789403.post-47410367486634023022012-08-12T10:00:00.001-07:002013-12-01T14:12:13.486-08:00Recent performance at The Alford Mart and Heritage Centre: The Living Museum July 2012 Into the Wild creatures, now homeless, were resident at the Alford Old Mart and Heritage Centre in summer 2012. The original Animal Mart houses many objects donated by local people providing a unique glimpse into farming life of the North East. The audience were invited to explore the "living museum" before joining the cast in a 1940's dance hall created in the mart arena.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Paul - Iron Monger.</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"> Aeden- Shoe maker.</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">School teacher- Gordon Black.</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Dora and Grace- Laundry.</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Deborah and Gordon in the kitchen.</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Merlyn hacks wood.</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Cathi- shopkeeper.</td></tr>
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Dudendancehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00701421412367152804noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9193082210295789403.post-33881994955346305542011-01-20T04:43:00.000-08:002013-12-06T09:29:59.117-08:00Battlehill Woods Performance: photos by Jan Holm, David Black, Jelka Platte and Christine Sell.<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Audience members led by a guide Into The Wild....<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Audience track performers using binoculars.<br />
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<tr><td><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMijTqStDjDqgAy9PBgmoRYI3BzN0JddbER3U9i0mOlRWIvPvlqRarXu4eZZfJMZ74DvzMI-t-NhJdlQ13qJD-LmqN8y0xxO85zL3pSO1nV_LBviUYR0q4JCR7EO0oXlESyIfcn4Ne8lly/s1600/7.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMijTqStDjDqgAy9PBgmoRYI3BzN0JddbER3U9i0mOlRWIvPvlqRarXu4eZZfJMZ74DvzMI-t-NhJdlQ13qJD-LmqN8y0xxO85zL3pSO1nV_LBviUYR0q4JCR7EO0oXlESyIfcn4Ne8lly/s400/7.jpg" width="266" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 13px;">Rachel May<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgmIBX4_Lgebrono4E_uttR607e9DLbhMWB2GUScBo_N8fS_zXbDrYmwej7XDf8K4yE55h2AhM9jrKMtpLirJnvYB20PsARwwkiT6ILNw6PDyWbWUUx2wcqIFtSWBM24Bjol8elWuYz9WVZ/s1600/2JanHolm.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgmIBX4_Lgebrono4E_uttR607e9DLbhMWB2GUScBo_N8fS_zXbDrYmwej7XDf8K4yE55h2AhM9jrKMtpLirJnvYB20PsARwwkiT6ILNw6PDyWbWUUx2wcqIFtSWBM24Bjol8elWuYz9WVZ/s400/2JanHolm.jpg" width="271" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Paul Rous </td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijEGEgtjFuhLEawBad0Cjtm07AnUZafpZS-1DH9FkLkf22ck89Eul8YSz7O1v5rTALiykFx3TageLZ-mRcOB2c_Kfrk4v8xTTpIUCJsdsSZS9nVlptIFaXflIFVbU4ohUrGI-WXqop8z3L/s1600/5JanHolm.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijEGEgtjFuhLEawBad0Cjtm07AnUZafpZS-1DH9FkLkf22ck89Eul8YSz7O1v5rTALiykFx3TageLZ-mRcOB2c_Kfrk4v8xTTpIUCJsdsSZS9nVlptIFaXflIFVbU4ohUrGI-WXqop8z3L/s400/5JanHolm.jpg" width="271" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Ryan Robertson<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgHEoybdo8vYY99Pie4DZOOjvl7CG5IZWmnuJVSodX_UeB1UeuTigdQVAh-hB-KC8Bgmyvw3UQSnC6YFTQ10jim7B_Vue4jxNERkUN-w4VbZfiNdP_klV5mqFL9CXDhlXHLc1xbVlUCVD2M/s1600/8JanHolm.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgHEoybdo8vYY99Pie4DZOOjvl7CG5IZWmnuJVSodX_UeB1UeuTigdQVAh-hB-KC8Bgmyvw3UQSnC6YFTQ10jim7B_Vue4jxNERkUN-w4VbZfiNdP_klV5mqFL9CXDhlXHLc1xbVlUCVD2M/s400/8JanHolm.jpg" width="271" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Kaitlyn Morrison and Catrin Jeans</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Pam Johnston<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 13px;">Alistair Duncan<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 13px;">Kiran Anderson<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjf10yIEi95jqri2S664qGbrTC8yjHrmnyumiRGrviyB8HNFosaNArm3hHy8MeSusq751mI4eYS2D0TXdN_p2GeGNpJfRxZf6uoLftIHwIZzZMVsA9-PPqxSzLH7G6N7LEwK6AWFVpVVsma/s1600/13.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjf10yIEi95jqri2S664qGbrTC8yjHrmnyumiRGrviyB8HNFosaNArm3hHy8MeSusq751mI4eYS2D0TXdN_p2GeGNpJfRxZf6uoLftIHwIZzZMVsA9-PPqxSzLH7G6N7LEwK6AWFVpVVsma/s400/13.jpg" width="271" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Hanna Clark and Zoe Chick</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgHVysAaP363YLKR-paj0HGzee5g64bD-bcMBiXirBrocrVY2Qa9LTsuJjLYjF0NEIwEHzeT0XgGbjPoryDDI3ZVIKy4ymbf-4Itvo-pPbMnAYSFBJLtlwnzktF1Vw-g5u6sKUvUk_bKiGb/s1600/12JanHolm.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="271" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgHVysAaP363YLKR-paj0HGzee5g64bD-bcMBiXirBrocrVY2Qa9LTsuJjLYjF0NEIwEHzeT0XgGbjPoryDDI3ZVIKy4ymbf-4Itvo-pPbMnAYSFBJLtlwnzktF1Vw-g5u6sKUvUk_bKiGb/s400/12JanHolm.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Gayle Tate<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Gordon Black and Grace Croft<br /><br /></td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Grace Croft</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhl1WQ94MLQmUszrsTT62Bq2PXk8Dd4ObcS_27q3vNwChZkbVrEn8Rb4zpwQfWm85qYZHq17v9wfKoCYKGHB-AKjvHAndEZh8YLC3YaO9CT1iXY3Spn6DHEOtsQYY22uxQfvBjdG57TLdmb/s1600/14JanHolm.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhl1WQ94MLQmUszrsTT62Bq2PXk8Dd4ObcS_27q3vNwChZkbVrEn8Rb4zpwQfWm85qYZHq17v9wfKoCYKGHB-AKjvHAndEZh8YLC3YaO9CT1iXY3Spn6DHEOtsQYY22uxQfvBjdG57TLdmb/s400/14JanHolm.jpg" width="271" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Cathi Sell</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEinS0RovO3O9bRfsZetYz1NeBW3mwELE1YAFXQ30vpKkE4eyVGeBlK3Wae0uTGKTqnC2XNy4mDrEDc6_hDHt4vz6PwiAHX6Bd-lL2-_eCTz9wl7QOR4wuSvf1ny0PwnbehjuAbsOzgUzubl/s1600/31.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEinS0RovO3O9bRfsZetYz1NeBW3mwELE1YAFXQ30vpKkE4eyVGeBlK3Wae0uTGKTqnC2XNy4mDrEDc6_hDHt4vz6PwiAHX6Bd-lL2-_eCTz9wl7QOR4wuSvf1ny0PwnbehjuAbsOzgUzubl/s400/31.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Out of the Wild.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_EHMpXQTySCqXMM9z45yq9k4ej747st0ZUSRP134Q2WLc_emGCCJpYE_t00qpECsrSBffmxLzZ381Z3-krF9_-tcNUcorGKfAQnJn_shT70STtTjZBxPAtZec4jM4vXeZtQVy-i6jGxiK/s1600/15.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_EHMpXQTySCqXMM9z45yq9k4ej747st0ZUSRP134Q2WLc_emGCCJpYE_t00qpECsrSBffmxLzZ381Z3-krF9_-tcNUcorGKfAQnJn_shT70STtTjZBxPAtZec4jM4vXeZtQVy-i6jGxiK/s400/15.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Into the Wild Cafe - Fabiana Galante's soundscape with the Huntly Writers.</td></tr>
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<br />Anonymousnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9193082210295789403.post-76298877844720345702010-09-09T01:28:00.001-07:002014-03-10T09:06:58.512-07:00Fabiana Galante's Soundscape Fabiana Galante from Argentina has spent six weeks in Huntly working with the Huntly Writers Group on creating a Woodland Orchestra. The writers used their poems as a starting point for a spoken sound-piece directed by Fabiana as a homage to the woods. The orchestra performed the piece live in the Cafe <br />
and recordings are available. The sound installation in the woods consisted of Jelka's interviews and Fabiana's work with the writers with their poems composed into a sound-scape. Fabiana also provided the only piece of music in the woodland promenade played by Pam the "crow" on a fiddle.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgM17HRLX6U75DX4JJpjiQHntp9rqcHGcHRS_utF4Tu_D8kNHsPO2kGqXxAvkQLkBK1CMEWMoAONNpLeG-i_Ugxw9t3AW63s93vLru2Nl1WvKcKUXA9WNyAvR-zQ1if1s_aUkk0vYICVd41/s1600/100_5305.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" ca="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgM17HRLX6U75DX4JJpjiQHntp9rqcHGcHRS_utF4Tu_D8kNHsPO2kGqXxAvkQLkBK1CMEWMoAONNpLeG-i_Ugxw9t3AW63s93vLru2Nl1WvKcKUXA9WNyAvR-zQ1if1s_aUkk0vYICVd41/s400/100_5305.JPG" height="300" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">speakers hidden in the tree trunks</td></tr>
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Anonymousnoreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9193082210295789403.post-6854705356669506372010-09-08T05:10:00.001-07:002013-12-03T05:28:47.321-08:00Daisy's cakes for Into the Wild Cafe<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiH5HZQ-a2ELtyLZtT7YMbQUh_vZyNZJcjUog1tvbjwAd4G-hdaQlvLy7JOZcQjYtvd4MkXyu1hoXC5dLECPSbXwce-BpU4sHhh1XuNsfZT4vGOAvYEbuLX6l1RP4QU95K3NlLRlC7j23jL/s1600/IMG_0728.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" ca="true" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiH5HZQ-a2ELtyLZtT7YMbQUh_vZyNZJcjUog1tvbjwAd4G-hdaQlvLy7JOZcQjYtvd4MkXyu1hoXC5dLECPSbXwce-BpU4sHhh1XuNsfZT4vGOAvYEbuLX6l1RP4QU95K3NlLRlC7j23jL/s320/IMG_0728.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Cakes and biscuits with wild fruits from the Battlehill.</td></tr>
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Daisy has been keeping the audience sweet with her delicious cakes!</div>
Anonymousnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9193082210295789403.post-65948445792765918602010-09-08T05:06:00.000-07:002012-07-16T12:06:10.702-07:00PRing at the Hairst Food festival<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgv3md6JKK8POONToSgGktPaRcM9jKvJiMsTLS02k1FHTBph2ZTXCS6ies49EsrZoeecF7PG6gQeBihzJKuZQx1I8cRjXGXxGO8IhsAb04V6wTlygxn9zM-WswrwHXSWIqIwcvlTMJ6JO_z/s1600/IMG_0724.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img $ca="true" border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgv3md6JKK8POONToSgGktPaRcM9jKvJiMsTLS02k1FHTBph2ZTXCS6ies49EsrZoeecF7PG6gQeBihzJKuZQx1I8cRjXGXxGO8IhsAb04V6wTlygxn9zM-WswrwHXSWIqIwcvlTMJ6JO_z/s320/IMG_0724.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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</div>Anonymousnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9193082210295789403.post-19641135644646109742010-09-08T04:59:00.000-07:002013-12-06T09:21:37.403-08:00PRing at the Farmers market<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEilRGnvkzJ6N08t_HjJLC2Xlsjc9O1Wl09deA0z24o2FbNrBBTPhF9CB_MaA_WNaIN8NRgM12VEDgfti4_AEhu_gniaW8y7IJ3gq2fz2ApxAR-n0sDWBYBKaRDolhB2x8EQMJntrD75V6lj/s1600/IMG_0694.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" ca="true" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEilRGnvkzJ6N08t_HjJLC2Xlsjc9O1Wl09deA0z24o2FbNrBBTPhF9CB_MaA_WNaIN8NRgM12VEDgfti4_AEhu_gniaW8y7IJ3gq2fz2ApxAR-n0sDWBYBKaRDolhB2x8EQMJntrD75V6lj/s320/IMG_0694.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
Anonymousnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9193082210295789403.post-14089788365017494082010-09-07T08:36:00.000-07:002013-12-03T05:29:55.719-08:001st weekend of Into the Wild<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiAHokfkChMXWD7IK6pBIKF687xFnykYYmSpwhrfyQaS-wkXFy1mCEOdkvooquDEVjDtBkuR6Ng5VuyA2mCGvE2pCDGuOCSTZpQp9Cet9jncy4LH7uDG9n-jyUzbPx8-uKl4OPvRFk__XZS/s1600/100_5263.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiAHokfkChMXWD7IK6pBIKF687xFnykYYmSpwhrfyQaS-wkXFy1mCEOdkvooquDEVjDtBkuR6Ng5VuyA2mCGvE2pCDGuOCSTZpQp9Cet9jncy4LH7uDG9n-jyUzbPx8-uKl4OPvRFk__XZS/s320/100_5263.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Cafe</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_wtU82ecHp1WYP0QxfjHO-oGhCnPkVkGoUnHw_RxdBmtmtpF-IX6sMkwlbKqCDqcU3LMJSU5Qa1NmGE1dXc6n4_givoaDyjJw2LHQMTDeqIlxOWcjc7HKIe5O186bIE6hE9Q8p9dgvrhh/s1600/100_5292.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_wtU82ecHp1WYP0QxfjHO-oGhCnPkVkGoUnHw_RxdBmtmtpF-IX6sMkwlbKqCDqcU3LMJSU5Qa1NmGE1dXc6n4_givoaDyjJw2LHQMTDeqIlxOWcjc7HKIe5O186bIE6hE9Q8p9dgvrhh/s320/100_5292.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Huntly Writers with Fabiana</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Having tea while waiting.</td></tr>
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The first weekend was a great success with over 180 people coming to the performance promenade in the woods.<br />
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The first weekend featured the Into the Wild cafe, a performance by the Woodland Orchestra and the promenade around the woods. If people come early to the Battlehill Woods they can relax in deckchairs, taking in the woods and listening to Jelka and Fabianna's sound installations. Each day 5 groups of 25 people are led by a guide - Into the Wild to spot the local wildlife !<br />
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<br />Anonymousnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9193082210295789403.post-20481015622151770502010-09-07T08:35:00.000-07:002013-12-03T05:25:47.040-08:00Dudendance led a special writers workshop in Battlehill for the Huntly Writers Group. The following poems were written and recorded.Ambush by Annie Lamb<br />
<br />
if you want to hide in the woods<br />
grow a green plush hat<br />
a moss-green velvet all-weather hat<br />
pull it down over your ears<br />
come away<br />
hide in the woods through the long summer’s day<br />
<br />
if you want to hide in your hat<br />
sport a fern cockade<br />
tall and frilly and fastened with braid<br />
break up your outline fine<br />
hunker down<br />
here in the woods at the back of the town<br />
<br />
you might like to lie in wait<br />
at the side of the track<br />
where lovers and wild men rush up and back<br />
heartily unaware<br />
that you’re there<br />
that the shadows are grown so long, so late.Anonymousnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9193082210295789403.post-34509904035508855402010-09-07T08:34:00.002-07:002010-09-07T08:35:17.855-07:00Drama on Battle Hill by Ruth BeanMorning mist lifts like a velvet curtain,<br />beams of light pierce through the darkness. <br /><br />Slowly life switches on to its performance,<br />the stage already set, for the drama to unfold.<br /><br />A fine line between humour and death,<br /> as acts are played out on a continual roll.<br /><br />The humour, as one leaf seems to balance <br />on its own stick like a spinning saucer.<br /><br />Then nature flips sides, to attack its own,<br /> the stomach of a tree gouged out, guts exposed to all.<br /><br />Next, the unthinkable creeps in,<br />a piece of plastic hangs limp on a tree limb.<br /><br />Another lies, on shrivelled up brown leaves,<br /> as if the plastic has sucked out their oxygen.<br /><br />The evening mist now falls like a velvet curtain,<br />beams of light start to switch off. <br /><br />Battle Hill is enveloped in darkness,<br />but still the drama carries on. <br /><br /><br /><br />8th August 2010Anonymousnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9193082210295789403.post-20490963007917374162010-09-07T08:34:00.001-07:002010-09-07T08:34:36.453-07:00Battlehill Woods in the Evening by Anne L. ForbesFlowing lines of the high bank, like a surge in the sea<br />Roots exposed through bare earth and brown leaves;<br />Silver Birch with umbrella like branches;<br />Sunlight through the trees on the fields beyond.<br />The roar of the road.<br /><br />Sitka Spruce in straight lines, with short spiky branches all the way up;<br />Untidy, haphazard, disorganized growth;<br />Graceful ferns, soft moss, and seedlings abound below.<br />A sad fallen tree with its roots torn up, leaning on others for support.<br />The caw of a crow.<br /><br />Tall stately Beech, calm, quiet, clean, good.<br />Clean underneath, with last year’s brown carpet<br />Stretching to the light green grass beyond.<br />Reassuring sounds of chopping wood.<br />A pigeon cooing.<br /><br />Younger Sitka stretch up, straight as a dye, in military formation;<br />Regular and regimented. You want to salute.<br />Nearby a tree with ripples up its trunk like elderly skin.<br />Another with varicose veins.<br />The call of a bird.<br /><br />One lone tree – dark, black, wicked, cruel,<br />With one foot stretching out to kick you,<br />Or stamp you out.<br />Nearby a tree with an ugly gash, like a war wound;<br />Flesh torn from its heart; sawdust spreading below like blood.<br /><br />A pair of trees stretching heavenward, with flowing garments,<br />Leaning together, whispering secrets.<br />Their men are straighter, darker, more official;<br />Their fingers reaching out -<br />Eager to know what’s going on.<br /><br />A beautiful old tree, spreading her arms up and around,<br />Protecting parked cars squatting below;<br />Her gnarled base firmly spread in the ground.<br />Grounded, mature, wise, loving; bunions in her feet,<br />But still strong - happily facing the hills ahead.<br /><br />Nearby, a towering quarry with vegetation clinging to its sides;<br />Pines reaching up above; swamp grass and new forest growth below;<br />Cliffs encircling, protective, secure.<br />Sounds of birds, cars – and midges.<br />Time to go home.Anonymousnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9193082210295789403.post-20927007887881903072010-09-07T08:31:00.001-07:002010-09-07T08:32:48.682-07:00Battlehill – observations from the edge of the wood, Maureen RossPlace 1<br /><br />The ground slopes away to a big beech. Its many branches rise from a thick trunk – all dark, back-lit by the evening light. <br /><br />Looking up, the canopy of leaves lets in the white light from the sky in scattered pieces like a static sparkling firework. <br /><br />Birds are singing all around. <br /><br />I can hear loose drops rain on the leaves. Most of them don’t seem to reach the ground.<br /><br />Beyond the tree the ground continues to slope – over an old stone wall, over a roof top and rises again up and over the intensity of a copper beech till it reaches the horizon on a far away hill.<br /><br />The rest of the evening light continues to shine through the vegetation around the foot of the tree making it glow.<br /><br />A large drop of summer-warm water lands on my head. I move on.<br /><br /><br />Place 2<br /><br />This is the very edge of the wood. A broom bush in full flower stands guardian to the open field.<br /><br />Here small blue flowers reflect the evening light that reaches in from the field. Their names are speedwell and forget-me-not. Is this a message?<br /><br />Behind me the wood rises up thicker and deeper and further from the open field. <br /><br />A collared dove calls Alas poor Betty. Alas poor Betty in a slow syncopation.<br /><br />I notice one of the forget-me-nots is completely white. The ghost of poor Betty?<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />Place 3<br /><br />This piece of edge of wood marches with a field of buttercups.<br /><br />And here there’s a huge hawthorn heavy with blossom and scent, flanked in its clearing of grass and ferns by an old high gorse.<br /><br />The gorse breathes out the astonishing smell of tropical coconut. It catches the yellow from the buttercup field and throws it in my eye.<br /><br />A strange bird call comes from the wood behind me – a deep<br /> de whoop doo de whoop doo<br />What is that?<br /><br />More little blue flowers – ones I don’t know but these are yellow tormentil.<br /><br />Through the green plant stems there are little white froths of cuckoo spit.<br /><br />The rain has found its way down through the leaves in greater splashing numbers now. I move further into the deep dark wood to escape.<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />Battlehill – observations from the edge of the wood, Maureen Ross<br /><br />16th June 2010 7:30 – 8:30 pmAnonymousnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9193082210295789403.post-74449434046195807082010-09-07T08:30:00.001-07:002010-09-07T08:32:28.492-07:00Battlehill Woods by Annie Lamb1. Place<br />Blue & yellow blue being forget-me-nots (?) *, yellow being broom which perfumes the place making me imagine it’s a scent of forget-me-nots.<br />The shade is deep. There are a couple of medium sized black slugs here at my feet making their way up or down grass stems. They seem busy (eating the grass, presumably).<br />The shade is cast by beeches that look young but probably aren’t. Also, there’s a rowan in blossom. And the sky is absolutely closed. Sounds: raindrops. This is the lip of the quarry – the A96 is at my back.<br />Atmosphere? Tense. Waiting.<br />Feeling, situation? A chance meeting – because of the path. Or – because both quarry & bungalows can be seen from above – witnessing something private.<br />* They were speedwells.<br /><br />2. Place<br />A tumulus about six feet across that is many-humped and made out of an old stump with moss growing thickly over it. This is by the same path, on the edge of dark conifer woods where are coal tits. But on or beside the path are beeches and I just passed a whitebeam in flower.<br />The tumulus has ferns (perhaps male fern?) over it and they look rather antic, and on an open mossy surface is some of that yellow fungus that looks like cat sick (or calf skite or scrambled eggs – it is that yellow).<br />There’s a scar in the ground beside the mound, edging the path, full of beech leaves.<br />Atmosphere? Fairylike because it’s a world in miniature like a bottle-garden, evoking: feeling surprised that I don’t still love bottle-gardens (I used to go to sleep pretending I was a little salamander deep in the moss in winter).<br />Situation? Becoming a little salamander and creeping in.<br /><br />3. Place<br />Glade where new oaks are planted – tree tubes. There’s a seat by the path.<br />Standing here one feels like a small person (a hobbit would be ± right) in the centre of a ring of great conversing trees. The trees across the path, above the seat, are tall spruces with pointy tops and graceful swooping (up-swept) lower branches just now tipped with edible-looking green. They bow or lean slightly over the hobbit and toward the tall beeches standing behind the new oak stand, and between is an open, grassy glade – very green – sort of Althing for Trees of different tribes coming in from different directions.<br />Atmosphere – Solemn. Serious – not ‘hobbitty’<br />Feeling – respectful<br />Situation: suppose if I wait a bit they’ll ask my opinion?Anonymousnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9193082210295789403.post-86324948527152350392010-09-07T08:29:00.001-07:002010-09-07T08:33:47.354-07:00Battlehill Trilogy by Anne Rogers, June 20101. Battle<br /><br />Wind tore through the forest, roaring its discontent.<br />Trees groaned and screamed, held in a manic Mexican wave.<br />Some fell, ripped from the earth, leaving open wounds.<br />Some lay supported by their neighbours – dying not yet dead.<br /><br />Sated the wind moved on. Silently rabbits returned; fed amongst the fallen, <br />dug in newly exposed earth.<br /><br /><br />2. Peace<br /><br />A circle of light, lush green growth.<br /><br />Branches sweep the ground, plants seek the sky.<br /><br />Birds’ crazy harmonies enhance the peace.<br /><br /><br />3. Requiem<br /><br />The old men of the forest bow their heads in conference.<br />Ready to take up their roots and walk they have no fear.<br />Ignore their message if you dare.<br /><br />Their prophet stands amongst them, limbs shocked into prayer.<br />“All life is one; don’t break the chain.”<br />Ignore his message if you dare.<br /><br /><br />The fathers have eaten sour grapes and the children’s teeth are set on edge<br /><br />Ashes to Ashes Dust to Dust Earth to EarthAnonymousnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9193082210295789403.post-15446224838952393712010-09-03T02:09:00.000-07:002012-07-17T03:24:58.759-07:00Team Wild<br />
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Clea, Fabianna and Jelka at work!Anonymousnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9193082210295789403.post-37575505161292125032010-09-03T02:06:00.001-07:002012-07-17T03:20:53.772-07:00Woodland Orchestra<br />
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The Huntly Writers group and Fabianna have been creating a Woodland Orchestra. They will perform at the Into the Wild cafe on Sunday the 5th and the 12th at 3pm.Anonymousnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9193082210295789403.post-61611114908175899512010-09-03T02:04:00.001-07:002012-07-17T03:19:56.387-07:00Interview with Nancy, who was born and grew-up in Huntly<br />
What are your first memories of the Battlehill?<br />
The thing that I remember most is the freedom we had, being able to run about and enjoy ourselves. You were away from the town as well - that was exciting. That is my really big impression: the freedom that we had up there, because it was so open and different from now. <br />
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What kind of games did you play?<br />
Cowboys and Indians. We used to go to the picture house in Huntly and see films and we used to re-enact some of the films in the Battlehill. That must have been a bit funny. Some of the boys had little toy guns. At that time you could play with guns, not like nowadays, you can´t really play with guns. They just had like cowboy guns, wee revolvers. They used to get caps to put in and it made a bang. <br />
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Did you have any favourite places in the Battlehill?<br />
I just remember the big stone where we used to have our picnics. That was sort of our base and we just played around there and some of us went off and did our own thing. It was just so free. There was no fear in those days either, like there is now. You would be scared to let the children run off on their own. At that time you could just run about in the Battlehill. <br />
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What did it look like around the rock?<br />
It was mostly just shrubbs and small trees at that time. It seems so closed in now compared to what we had. As I said you could run about and there was so much space. There does not seem to be the same space now with the trees. It was quite green up there at the Battlehill, but with the trees the vegetation does not get the same chance to grow. I think you could actually see Huntly from the Battlehill. <br />
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Do you remember any animals?<br />
Rabbits probably. But we were probably making so much noise that we would have scared the wildlife away. But there certainly were rabbits. <br />
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Do you still go there for walks today?<br />
Yes, my friends and I sometimes have a walk there. It´s a nice walk but I must admit that I prefer to be in spaces where you can see the countryside rather than just walking through trees all the time.Anonymousnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9193082210295789403.post-74118284008734951612010-09-03T02:02:00.000-07:002012-07-17T03:19:50.428-07:00Interview with Poppy and Niamh, both 10 years old<br />
Where do you go when you go to the Battlehill Wood?<br />
We go to the beginning and there are paths which you can follow. <br />
Yes, we follow the path and then go up to the hill bit.<br />
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Do you sometimes leave the paths?<br />
Yes. I like running through ferns and stuff. <br />
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What do you play in the Woods?<br />
My dad put up a swing where the steps are. Or we play this game where we are in a sort of tribe and we have to build our own little things and we climb trees and stuff. We kind of use the trees as our houses and we build pretend fires. There is only two of us, so we just pretend there is more. <br />
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We also have this place which we call the kingdom. It´s a fallen tree but there are other trees around it. You can go around the back and then go in it. It´s become a bit damp now because of the rain.<br />
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I like to pretend that I am wild animals. I like being griffins, sometimes wolves and sometimes horses. <br />
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What are griffins?<br />
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They are mythical. They are half a giant eagle and half lion. They are cool, I like them. <br />
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What kind of movements do they do?<br />
Oh I just run through the forest and jump quite far and go on rocks. Sometimes I growl. <br />
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Are you allowed to go into the woods on your own?<br />
Sometimes, but not usually. Sometimes- we then just take drinks and food but not really anything else. Sometimes I have picnics with my mum and dad. <br />
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Do you have a favourite place to do that?<br />
When you go up the steps there is a green bit so you can sit there and eat your picnic. <br />
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What kind of animals do you see in the woods?<br />
I have seen a lot of birds. I have seen a lot of rabbits. I think I once heard a woodpecker, but I never saw it. You see a lot of butterflies. <br />
There are quite a few squirrels as well. <br />
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And what sounds do you hear there?<br />
Sometimes when it´s quite windy the trees are creeking. And you hear birds. <br />
We stopped in the middle of the woods and listened for a minute and you hear a lot of bees buzzing.<br />
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Did you ever get lost in the woods?<br />
No. <br />
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Do you find it more a light and happy space or more a spooky place?<br />
It depends where you are. Where you can see the fields it´s kind of peaceful. <br />
But when you go into the Kingdom and you go really far in, it get´s really dark, so that would be a bit spooky. <br />
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Why do you call it the Kingdom?<br />
I don´t know, me and my other friend and her little sister found it and we just went, „Oh well, this is the Kingdom.“ <br />
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Do you play kings and queens in there?<br />
We did once but we don´t really do that anymore. We more kind of just explore now. <br />
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What do you find when you explore?<br />
Me and my brother used to collect pine cones and we once found about four inched long pine cones. It´s good to go on your bike because there is a lot of curves and dips, so that´s quite fun. There is also a bit where there is a style, so that you can climb over the fence to play on the rocks on the other side.<br />
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What do you play on the rocks?<br />
I play griffins a lot. And me and Niamh we like to howl a lot.<br />
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That would be the wolves howling to the moon?<br />
Yes.Anonymousnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9193082210295789403.post-90913355157546252222010-09-02T07:57:00.001-07:002012-07-17T03:19:42.196-07:00SUMMER<br />
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(Indian) summer is finally here in Huntly and with it lots of fresh produce to pick! Mushrooms, red currents and raspberries. DELICIOUS!Anonymousnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9193082210295789403.post-90639640120964284322010-09-02T07:46:00.000-07:002012-07-17T03:19:03.109-07:00Cup of tea please<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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If you are walking around the Battlehill over the next few days you might be able to get a glimpse of some of the animals and their belongings.Anonymousnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9193082210295789403.post-27773130678717116052010-09-02T03:55:00.000-07:002012-07-16T12:16:46.553-07:00Elk and safety<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9pZSEjWkhqHQjX2qCE1jRadx9ZerIN3dFQAX7yWtXBWHrL1baOWYEWBufzdgaTXom5lwASqTLCcfWgZeR4zwEyRuzIfWljxSXT6P3MCo8t2uRdQVX8fIoLIZxGx-4a7Fc_sfc_OsZ6Gwk/s1600/100_5131.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img $ca="true" border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9pZSEjWkhqHQjX2qCE1jRadx9ZerIN3dFQAX7yWtXBWHrL1baOWYEWBufzdgaTXom5lwASqTLCcfWgZeR4zwEyRuzIfWljxSXT6P3MCo8t2uRdQVX8fIoLIZxGx-4a7Fc_sfc_OsZ6Gwk/s320/100_5131.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>Anonymousnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9193082210295789403.post-54660627369263949672010-09-02T03:53:00.001-07:002012-07-17T03:18:21.718-07:00Interview with Jimmy, born and grew up in Huntly<br />
We always went up to the Battlehill to play there. But in 1953, with the gale, a lot of the trees got absolutely flattened. That was at the far end. <br />
Where the quarry is now – that´s where we built a hut. There were big goarse bushes and down below was Bogie Wool Mills. They had big wool sacks. I don´t know how we got hold of them - we certainly didn´t buy them – so we got one of them, slit it and made a tent. Oh it was beautiful! At summertime we played there everyday. At that time for example we would go to the local cinema – the matinee programme – then we got the guns and we’d go up the Battlehill and it was back to the cowboys and Indians. <br />
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So you were reenacting the films?<br />
Yes, reenacting what we saw. At that time it was Gene Autry, the singing cowboy and Johnny Weissmueller. We did one or two of his, because I don´t know if you noticed over the Bogie Bridge where the road goes up to the farm, we used to have a big rope swing there. We did a few yodelling and swinging back and forth there.<br />
It was always cowboys, we never had Indians. We used to go and look for the Indians, but we never found any. But yes, we always reenacted the films. The guns just used to be a piece of wood. We never had a real gun, oh no! All we had were bits of stick. The horses were just our own legs, so there was no money spent. <br />
We often built a small fire and we used to have boiled eggs. If we had potatoes in the field we would put them on a stick and pass them round. And the wee fire would help roast potatoes and we used to sit up there. <br />
On a Saturday my father used to come home for lunch at one o´ clock and I had to be there at one o’clock. But fortunately at that time you had the Bogie Mills who worked, you had Spencers Mill worked and the Gordon cream company worked. All their sirenes were tested half past twelve on a Saturday. Brilliant! Because the minute we heard that we used to shoot off, down the hill, back up home and we got home at one o´clock. And then back down again. <br />
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There used to be a path that come up in a curve, it came straight along a joint and the council had seats there. It was wrought iron steel seats. There used to be a set of a dozen seats, if I remember it right and I think they lost one every year. The painter used to come up to paint them and you always heard them saying, „ Have you lads seen any seats?“ „No“, true enough, because we never saw them. There used to be several of a dozen and eventually they had two seats on the face, because people used to walk up there on a Sunday afternoon and sat down. The big trees weren´t blocking your view at that time. You were looking right over to Huntly, it was brilliant. After 53 it was devistated, totally devistated. It was a bare hill. <br />
There was a lot a lot of berries! Rasps, blaeberries, but mostly rasps. That was another excuse to go up there. „Can we go and pick rasps?“. So your mother would give you a jar, but while you picked them, you ate them all and when you came home nothing was left. <br />
I remember that my mother had told me that the council at that time had decided at that time, to manage the Battlehill better, they would plant trees and at that time we as a household used to pay rates. You paid your rates based on your rent. If you paid five pounds a week rents the rates would be a shilling and a pound. So you paid five shillings above that to cover dustbin emptying or whatever it was. So at that time the council accumulated some money and decided to plant the Battlehill. When the trees matured they would sell the trees and the money would come back into the council again. The Battlehill was planted, but unfortunately they changed it into region at that time and the money went to the region, so we never got the money back. <br />
People of Huntly used to go up often with a handsaw and cut a big limb off, maybe ten or twelve feet long! You used to see them walking down back home with it! They used it for firewood. <br />
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Are there any sounds you associate with the woods?<br />
You always, always heard the wood pigeon! You heard the cuckoo up there earlier on but you could never pinpoint it. It was really nice, because the grass was never cut, paths were never maintained. <br />
My sister was playing with us all the time up there but unfortunately she died fourteen years ago. She was cremated and her wish was that her ashes are up there. <br />
I try to look for words to describe what it was, but it was freedom, it was your freedom. The minute you stepped up there nobody said boo to you. That´s the good old days.Anonymousnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9193082210295789403.post-30490487874754366122010-09-02T03:51:00.000-07:002012-07-17T03:18:12.979-07:00Interview with Liz<br />
When do you go to the Battlehill?<br />
I go there at least once a week. I usually take my dog, a greyhound. People think it looks quite comical, she is attached with her harnsih to me. I go there for exercise and because it´s nice to absorb the natural surroundings. I am generally going at speed. <br />
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How would you describe the place in terms of atmosphere?<br />
It feels very restfull. Generally it´s a circular route I do round the edge, you see different things, you have trees and you look out across the fields towards Kinour. <br />
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Is it about forgetting to go up there?<br />
Well, usually I have music as well, that´s actually steering me on and helps me to forget as I go round, it´s probably a Serotonin rush from the exercise as well and that makes it complete and wonderful. <br />
I love it when there is snow. When I had my cancer treatment seven years ago that was a great place to go. Even if you didn´t feel like it, I went anyway because it does cheer you up. I even wrote a little short verse about it:<br />
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Crump crump crump marching through the snow<br />
Crump crump crump through the woods I go<br />
Saving every moment as though it were my last<br />
I hear my inner voice call out:<br />
You´re going way too fast!<br />
<br />
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Are there any sounds you would associate with the woods?<br />
It´s a peaceful place without so many sounds. I suppose the main sound would be the wind going through the trees. I love the wind. You have been sheltered from it and then suddenly „woosh“ it comes right in your face.<br />
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Are there any smells you remember?<br />
I suppose rotting leaves, the smell is very evocative. I like it when it has just rained and you have a scent coming from the small plants.(...)<br />
The tree that quite often has flowers at the bottom, that’s a sad one. I assume someone has comitted suicide. It´s a huge beech tree just before you go into the quarry. <br />
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Have you ever had a picnic or something like it in the Woods?<br />
I have sat and sort of contemplated life, yes. There is a seat on your way, on the side that´s facing towards Drumblade, I have sat there and wrote a speech.Anonymousnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9193082210295789403.post-60116517564651963832010-09-02T03:50:00.000-07:002012-07-17T03:26:02.407-07:00Interview with Margaret, resident of Huntly since 1937<br />
I came to live by the Battlehill in 1937 and stayed there for 57 years. The first time I went for a walk there my husband took me half way round the wood and I found that was quite a long walk then! Later I had four children and they were the ones who played there – ropes onto trees for a swing and climbing trees and lots of other games.<br />
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During the 2nd World War a timber merchant cut down all the fir trees, but left the big beautiful beech trees which mostly grew at the soldiers rest. The soldiers rested by a little burn which is not there now. The soldiers came from fighting the Battle of Slioch in Robert the Bruce’s time. Slioch is very near the Battlehill, just off the turn to Banff. As a child my husband, who lived very near the hill played there a lot. He was playing near the burn once and he found a silver buckle and three silver buttons which appeared to be off an officers uniform and very old. His father put them into a museum.<br />
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The flowers were violets and wood anemonies in the spring. Later in the year we could gather wild rasps. and plenty of them. Lovely big brambles grew mostly in the quarry at the edge of the hill. We also got rowan berries which we made jelly with. <br />
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The Battlehill was a favourite place. We loved walking all round it – summer and winter, all weathers. The children had wonderful sledging on the hilly banks when we had snow. <br />
We saw red squirrels and the odd pheasant or two and one nested at the back of the hill, but poor thing the nest was scattered and all we could see was some feathers. Maybe a fox did this. My children saw roe deer, but I never did. <br />
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I had two poodle dogs and many a time they took themselves off for a run up the Battlehill. Once I had a very spooky late night – the moon was shining in a very dark sky. My dogs had gone off and I went by myself, quite a long way into the hill and callled and called for my dogs but they never came to me. They came home bedraggled the next morning.<br />
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We only brought a few branches for the fire when we were out for a walk, we had plenty of wood as we were a timber family.<br />
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The Battlehill is a wonderful place and many Huntly people enjoy walking there. I would say it´s a very happy place. Children came and I´m sure they still do, to roll their Easter eggs and have picnic tea after. My children went over the garden wall to play in the Battlehill and near enough to call me to say they were alright. <br />
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Looking back, the Battlehill was very bare for a long time after the fir tree were cut during the 2nd World War, but eventually it was replanted with young fir trees. I remember that we could see the town clearly and it took many years to grow to the size the firs are now. <br />
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There were lots of rabbits on the Battlehill and an official trapper – but that´s a long time ago.Anonymousnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9193082210295789403.post-27796983661004230892010-09-01T05:31:00.001-07:002012-07-17T03:12:42.276-07:00This weekend!<br />
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The Into the Wild team are so excited that it is all kicking off this weekend. Fingers crossed the weather is nice!Anonymousnoreply@blogger.com0