Hessary

Photographic Scales

In archaeological photographs a scale is generally expected. However when I take a picture of something interesting which I’ve happened upon I generally don’t have a scale with me. In these cases it’s usually a dog or pony who serves as a rough indicator of size.

Max's last role as a photographic scale, June 2016 — Max’s last role as a photographic scale, June 2016

Molly illustrates the dimensions of a sheep track

Slighted ridge-and-furrow with helpful pony

For the subjects in which I’m most interested (boundaries, pits, banks etc) the conventional scale would be a ranging pole. Unfortunately these are relatively heavy and cumbersome; telescopic versions exist but cost around £50.

I explored the idea of making my own folding version, inspired by those folding tent poles secured with elastic running through the centre.

One day at work I was discussing something with a visually-impaired colleague; after a while I stopped listening to him and focussed instead on his symbol cane.

A quick look at the RNIB’s online shop revealed quite a selection of such canes, including those for deaf-blind users which are red and white, just like a ranging pole: http://shop.rnib.org.uk/mobility/canes/symbol-canes/100cm-deafblind-folding-symbol-cane-red-white.html

1m deaf-blind symbol cane in the RNIB shop

First use revealed a problem: a 1m red and white cane with four sections looks like a 2m ranging pole in photos:

It was a simple matter to dismantle the cane and re-arrange the segments into 0.5m red and 0.5m white portions. The effect now is of half a ranging pole. I also tucked the hand-loop inside the pole for neatness.

The only annoying thing about the cane as supplied was the glue used to hold the labels on: it’s very sticky, resistant to every solvent I have at home.

All in all, a bargain at £11.70.

Oh dear, Devon Banks!

In Devon the fields are enclosed not by mere hedges, fences or even stone walls but by hedgebanks tall, broad and imposing.

These monstrous structures comprise a tall earthen bank, roughly faced with field stones and topped with the usual grown hedgerow plants seen elsewhere.

A typical Devon Bank, showing the earthen bank faced with stone.

Their sheer bulk has ensured that they survived the destruction visited on hedgerows elsewhere in the country during and after the Second World War. The gains in acreage and therefore income did not make up for the costs in removing them; the poor soil left behind required copious fertiliser or scarce topsoil to equal the productivity of the surrounding fields.

Recognition of the special contribution the hedgebanks make to the landscape of Devon means that developers are often required to reinstate or repair them as part of planning conditions. Unfortunately few of these efforts actually result in anything which could be called an authentic Devon bank.

Most often we see some odd construction not quite a Devon bank and not quite a dry-stone wall.

Dry stone wall imitation of a Devon Bank

A very polite version, found on a business Park in Plymouth

While not hideous in themselves these are often built alongside existing original banks which only serves to emphasise their alien nature, as the following example shows. On the left is the original hedebank and on the right is an infill or repair in dry-stone effect.

Original hedgebank 'repaired' with a modern dry-stone wall version — Original hedgebank ‘repaired’ with a modern dry-stone wall version

You have to wonder whether the architects, landscape designers and builders actually looked at what they were doing and noticed the clumsy effect.

Opportunistic Prospecting

Many people, archaeologist or not, can’t resist looking into a hole in the ground. Whether it’s a trench across the road, foundations for a neighbour’s new extension or even the underside of a wind-felled tree, we stop and look.

What we see depends on knowledge, experience and interest: soil characteristics, geology, construction methods or foundations of known buildings.

As a dog owner I’m out most days, usually walking familiar areas of the heathland near home. This familiarity makes small changes most familiar. New burrows of moles or minotaur beetles reveal the depth of topsoil. Sheep tracks create sections through mediaeval field boundaries over the course of a few weeks. A fallen tree provides a sample of soil and subsoil. Rabbit burrows reveal the real nature of a mound – not a mining tip but unused ashes from brake-burning. I’ve yet to find pottery or other finds in any of these but I do now have an understanding of the topsoil depth and quality.

I do wonder whether I should be more systematic in my appreciation of these reveals, actually recording what I see. Notes on what’s shown, a couple of photos and a GPS location. I can see though that this could become an obsession, ending up with a detailed database of beetle, mole and sheep activity. Perhaps not then.