Tag Archives: Corbar Woods
Lyn Noble has painted these views of BCA's Corbar Woods and written about the inspiration that he finds in the woods and painting them
Our woodlands are always beautiful, but in Spring they’re even more so. Low morning or evening light can still find its way through young leaves. Gaps in the canopy allow the floodlighting of sandy mounds and glades, enhanced by surrounding areas of deep shadow. Light against dark; dark against light, each tone brightened or darkened by the contrast with its surroundings.
A sort of metaphor for the times we live in?
I’m often accused of walking too fast but Corbar Wood always slows me down. Changes in foliage and light throughout the year keep revealing new vignettes, different angles. Back home I find that I find that I’ve already taken that latest photo, but it’s different. Back into the woods, again and again, a gestation period until the paintbox is fished out (again!).
The Blue Bell by Emile Bronte
The blue bell is the sweetest flower
That waves in summer air;
Its blossoms have the mightiest power
To soothe my spirit's care.
There is a spell in purple heath
Too wildly, sadly dear;
The violet has a fragrant breath
But fragrance will not cheer.
The trees are bare, the sun is cold;
And seldom, seldom seen;
The heavens have lost their zone of gold
The earth its robe of green;
And ice upon the glancing stream
Has cast its sombre shade
And distant hills and valleys seem
In frozen mist arrayed -
The blue bell cannot charm me now
The heath has lost its bloom,
The violets in the glen below
They yield no sweet perfume.
But though I mourn the heather-bell
'Tis better far, away;
I know how fast my tears would swell
To see it smile today;
And that wood flower that hides so shy
Beneath the mossy stone
Its balmy scent and dewy eye:
'Tis not for them I moan.
It is the slight and stately stem,
The blossom's silvery blue,
The buds hid like a sapphire gem
In sheaths of emerald hue.
'Tis these that breathe upon my heart
A calm and softening spell
That if it makes the tear-drop start
Has power to soothe as well.
For these I weep, so long divided
Through winter's dreary day,
In longing weep--but most when guided
On withered banks to stray.
If chilly then the light should fall
Adown the dreary sky
And gild the dank and darkened wall
With transient brilliancy,
How do I yearn, how do I pine
For the time of flowers to come,
And turn me from that fading shine
To mourn the fields of home -
On Saturday 15th September from 1 - 4 pm
What will we find?
What will we see?
Who lives in the wonderwoods?
Join us for an afternoon of making, laughing and inventing adventures in Corbar Woods, one of Buxton’s oldest woods. There, under the spreading branches of the beech trees, we’ll tell terrible tales of the strange and wonderful world of Corbar. By ancient yews we’ll make the mysterious animals and beautiful peoples who might yet be hidden in the woods. As old and well-crunkled oaks watch us, we’ll make shining, glittering wood-eyes so the wood can watch us all the way home….
Join us for an afternoon of making, laughter and mess!
Drop in between 1 and 4 on Saturday 15th. This is one of a number of activities in Buxton that afternoon so look out for excitements at Lightwood, in Pavilion Gardens and in Grin low Woods at Buxton Country Park as well…
The activity is free, no booking needed
Enter the woods by the Corbar Rd entrance and we will be based somewhere round there