Frosted Scene- ©Todd Edson 2012, All Rights Reserved.

Last week my wife and I went for a walk after a heavy fog the night before had left a hoarfrost on the trees and grasses at one of our favorite parks.  This is about as close as we’ve been to winter in Minnesota this year and I had to get out and create some scenes before the sun turned everything back into the dead brown colors.  I really keep hoping for some snow before spring but with only a few months left of winter it’s getting to the point I’m ready to drive up to Canada for a weekend for some snow shots!

Frosted - ©Todd Edson 2012, All Rights Reserved.

Several months ago I started writing about my experiences while travelling through England using my travel journal and planning notes.  On top of my personal stories I compiled as many ghost stories and legends about the locations as I could find through online resources.  Below is the first “chapter” of that work which I’m sharing with visitors to my site.  I would like to ask those who read this chapter and see the images to take a little time and give me some constructive feedback and opinions on the following material.  I’m also very interested in hearing about others experiences or legends that they have heard and are willing to share.  If I find there is a good response to write-ups like this I will start including them in the future.  Please enjoy and take a little time to give me some feedback after you’re done.

St. Mary's or the Reculvers - ©Todd Edson 2008, All Rights Reserved.

St. Mary’s Church/The Twin Sisters/Reculvers, Reculver near Herne Bay, Kent.

We approached the ruins of St. Mary’s otherwise known as the “Twin Sisters” or “Reculvers” driving from London on our way towards the first B&B we were staying at in Coldred.  Driving in off the A299/Thanet Way we turned off at B2205 to Reculver Road which turns into Reculver Lane leading to the ruins.  Coming to visit here first was a little out of our way but we needed to shake off the jet lag and walk around after sitting for so long.  I also really wanted to start seeing some of the country outside of an airplane or car.

A light rain was falling off and on when the ruins came into view which added to the overall ambiance.  In front of where we parked stood the “King Ethelbert Inn”, a white two story building and one of the old village buildings.  Directly behind and to the left we could see the remains of the exterior wall of a Roman fort which turns a corner behind the pub.  Up the hill to the left was also a path leading up to the ruins of the medieval church.  The two towers are easily the highest thing around the area and made a striking view against the backdrop of the sea and clouds as we approached.  I could see why this area has long held the imagination of the people who live and visit this picturesque corner of Kent.

There were only a few others at the site when we visited and they were all in a group observing either the shipping, the WWII sea forts which I would like to see closer myself, or the windmill farm out in the bay with telescopes.  None of them came into the ruins themselves leaving them to us to wander and soak in the atmosphere.

On approaching the towers I took the time to try to decipher the writing on the remaining monuments most of which were illegible to me without the tools to do rubbings.  The only one which I could read was:

Here lieth ye Body

of John Collard

who died Aug 4^th

176 0

Aged 78 Years

Also Mary His Daug(hter)

Who died Oct (11?)

1745

Aged 24 Years

    My wife had moved into the shelter of the alcoves in the towers to get away from the wind, and the few sporadic drops of rain still falling.  I took my time wandering around the outside looking at all the monuments left and the remains of the Roman walls.  On two sides of the ruins are a caravan park which I saw no activity in at the time of our visit.  It was somewhat eerie even though I knew there were the people on the other side of the church exterior, the place had a feeling of mournful abandonment where we were the only people around.  No sounds of anything but the wind whistling through the ruins and the sound of the surf crashing on the rocks below.

I took my time and captured several images from the angles outside the church ruins and finally rejoined my wife at the tower to warm up a bit out of the wind.  We chatted a little about things we had discovered on our own.  After taking some time to capture some more images inside the church ruins themselves we moved down the path away from the car park.  I took some time to walk down some steps and to the sea where I got my feet wet which is a personal tradition when I encounter large bodies of water.  On looking around the beach a little for things of interest and better camera angles than I had already used and finding nothing that appealed to me I moved on.

We continued to walk down the path for a short distance past some charred remains of shacks or some kind of structure.  After speculating what they were and coming up with no good answers the chill wind was getting to both of us.  We decided to head back towards the car and continue on our way to the B&B.  By the time we got back to the front of the church ruins the group of people looking out to sea had gone and there was no sign of anyone at the pub to get something to warm up.  We got back into the car just as the rain started to come down a bit harder and slowly drove away towards Coldred.

Looking back at our travel journals, memories, and images from this moody ruin we didn’t see anything ghostly, hear the cries of babies or galloping horses, and we didn’t see any specters crossing the road between hedgerows.  We did agree that there was a strange quiet and feeling of sad abandonment to the place which sticks with me to this day when I think about it.

St. Mary's or the Reculvers - ©Todd Edson 2008, All Rights Reserved.

A short history:

This area is believed to have been settled as far back as the late Bronze Age and inhabited up to present times.  It has seen the coming and goings of many cultures and all have left their marks on the area.  During the Roman conquest of Britain a castrum, a type of Roman fort, called Regulbium was built here to protect the strategic northern entrance to the Wantsum Channel.  The channel itself once separated the Isle of Thanet from the English mainland but long ago filled in where little remains but some marshland and a drainage ditch to mark where it was.

At one point in the distant past a smaller Saxon church and monastery stood at the site in the middle of the Roman fort claiming the once pagan site for Christianity.  Parts of the fort were incorporated into building the church and Roman tiles can still be seen in the ruins of the church walls.  This means of claiming pagan sites was a common theme in Europe where one religion supplanted another.  Legend has it that one of the Kings of Kent, Ethelbert, was buried in this church.  Old writings talk about a monument during the reign of King James I that was reputed to have been Ethelbert’s.  It described the burial monument as being at the upper end of the south aisle, mounted with two spires of antique design.  In the 12^th century St. Mary’s church incorporated the smaller one and remained there as an active church until the early 1800’s.  At that time no description remains of the monument which may have been removed or covered, but a wooden tablet hung in the church perpetuating that it was where the kings mortal remains rested.  This Ethelbert may be one of the descendants of King Ethelbert as it’s recorded that the kings remains rest in the ruins of the Church of St. Augustine in Canterbury.

The ancient village of Reculver clustered around the church and ruined fort that was recorded as being a little more than a quarter of a mile from the sea in 1540.  Throughout the latter 1700’s coastal erosion was swallowing much of the village and portions of the fort and it was mostly abandoned.  Many of the residents moved on or relocated nearby leaving much of the village to the sea.  From then to the 1800’s the village and church continued to be under siege from the sea with more and more of it being lost.

During this time many things were discovered on a regular basis as the sea continued to erode away at the cliff, the walls, and interior portions of the Roman fort and churchyard.  I found several articles about how children used to sell handfuls of Roman coins to travellers that they found on the beach.  So many coins have been found here that it’s believed to have been the location of a Roman mint.  There are also stories of finding metal objects like armor, bridles, jewelry, globs of brass and gold, and other metal objects, as well as pottery, tiles and much more.  During this slow process it was common for visitors to discover human remains washed from the cliffs as a ghastly reminder of Memento Mori.  Below are excerpts from publications where the authors mention this:

“..Before the cliff was faced with stone, human bones were frequently picked up on the beach, and the broken ends of coffins might be seen protruding from the crumbling face of the cliff.”[1]

“The beach below is strewed with bones from the churchyard.”[2]

“The difficulty (not insurmountable) of access; the church in ruins; the half-obliterated gravestones, marking where ‘the rude forefathers of the hamlet sleep;’ the bleached bones, which strew the beach, of the nameless ejected tenants of graves undermined by the waters; and the broken framework of human bodies, projecting from the black unctuous cliff;”[3]

Since then the crumbling ruins of St. Mary’s have been slowly threatening to fall into the North Sea for many years from the relentless erosion of wind and water.  If not for extensive efforts over the last two hundred years a great deal of the ruins if not all of them would have been lost to the North Sea.  The ruins that once were more than a quarter mile from the sea now sit perched precariously near a cliffs edge.

The towers once boasted spires on the tops which common lore suggests they were built by Frances St Clare in honor of her sister Isabella.  The two sisters were twin daughters of Sir Geoffrey St Clare that lived in the late 15^th century.  Both sisters grew into adulthood and both eventually became nuns, Frances a prioress of the Benedictine Priory of Davington, and Isabella a ward of Abbot John of St Augustine’s Abbey in Canterbury.  The story goes that Frances became very ill and she made a vow that if she should ever recover that she would make a pilgrimage to give thanks at the Shrine of Our Lady Star of the Sea at Broadstairs a short distance south down the coast from St Mary’s church.  She did recover and approval was given for her sister Isabella to join her on the journey and the two were soon on their way.  Since the means of travel in the 15^th century was very different than it is today the sisters decided to take a sloop or small sailing vessel to reach their destination.  While on route the ship and passengers encountered a violent storm at night where the ship was grounded on a sandbar known as “The Horse” near St Mary’s church.

One of the sisters Frances made it to shore on a boat with others but poor Isabella was stuck on the ship until rescued in daylight.  The resulting exposure and shock resulted in Isabella passing away the following day in her sisters arms.  Frances completed her vow to leave offerings at the shrine as well as donating twelve masses for the repose of Isabella’s soul.  She also restored and enlarged St Mary’s church and erected two spiral towers at one end which she directed should be called “The Sisters” in memory of Isabella and as a landmark to passing sailors.[4]  Another version of this story may be found in the “Ingoldsby Legends” by Thomas Ingoldsby a pen-name for Richard Harris Barham where the sisters are replaced by two brothers named Richard and Robert de Birchington.

The church of St. Mary’s survived whole and in use excepting parts of the fort and churchyard being swept away until around 1802.  It was around this time that the then vicar a Mr. C. C. Nailor started on a path that would earn him the scorn of many.  The chapel house just to the north-east collapsed into the sea and the end to the church seemed near.  Many people came to see the church around this time probably hoping to see it fall into the sea as well.  People do love seeing destruction!  With the large numbers of spectators Mr. Nailor’s mother said that “The church was keep for a poppet show” and persuaded her son to take the church down.  On requesting permission from the Bishop he was told that this was alright if a majority agreed.  After three years of discussions with the parish he succeeded in gaining a majority by one vote to tear down the church and build a new one.  The new church was to be located in Hilborough which is where many of the displaced villagers had moved to.  Driving up to the ruins now one can see the new church St. Mary the Virgin on the right just past Sweechbridge Road on Reculver Lane.  It may be a form of poetic justice that the new church only lasted about 60 years because it was poorly built.  Another church was again built on this site which stands today.  I suggest a visit to this church as well since some parts of the St. Mary’s church were used in the construction.  Visitors can see glimpses of what the older church looked like such as a carved head incorporated into the building.  One of the four bells from St. Mary’s is reported to be here, a 36” A pitch made by Joseph Hatch in 1635.  The only other remaining bell a 34” B flat also by Joseph Hatch in the same year resides at St. Leonard’s Church in Badlesmere, Kent.  The other two bells a 40” G pitch, and a 44” F pitch were scrapped along with so many other things.[5]

Other remains of St. Mary’s reside in the crypt of Canterbury Cathedral such as fragments of the original preaching cross and two columns that supported the arches which divided the nave from the apse in the original Saxon church.  One was recovered from an orchard near Canterbury and the other was still in a farmyard at Reculver[6].  There are stories of how the people of the area basically pillaged the ruins and scrapped everything they could.  It was reportedly from this scrapping that the lead from the spire rooftops was removed which resulted in them collapsing in a storm in 1809.  Masonry from the church was also used in the building of the new church as well as the Margate Pier.  Large oak timbers were also removed for home building.   I was able to locate an engraving posted on the internet from 1830 showing workmen removing one of the columns from the ruins which appeared much more extensive at that time.

In an old book I found reference to local legend about the bad luck that followed the destruction of St. Mary’s:

“..The church, at the commencement of the present century, though it had been neglected and was dilapidated, might have been easily repaired; but the gentry and clergy abandoned it to jobbers and speculators, who seized upon the venerable old pile, tore it to pieces and divided the spoil; and old people, who remember the circumstances, tell how the bells fell to the share of one, the lead to another, recount the prices at which the materials were sold, and relate how, ere long, the curse of heaven fell on all the destroyers of the church; that nothing prospered with them, and that, at last, they and their families came to misery and ruin.”[7]

When all of this destruction came to the attention of Trinity House (the General Lighthouse Authority for England) they purchased the site in 1810 and stabilized it as well as erecting wind vanes on the tops of the towers.  They also built a sea wall or groin to help prevent further erosion which was again redone in 1997.[8]  The reason for this rebuilding was that the towers have been used as a sea-mark since the middle ages.  These towers were so revered that passing ships entering the Thames would lower their top sails as they passed.[9]  As best as I can determine the wind vanes on the towers came down in the late 1920’s or early 1930’s.

During World War II one of the RAF test sites for the famous bouncing bombs invented by Barnes Wallis was just offshore of the ruins.  Four of these prototype bombs have been recovered from the bay by the military in 1997 one of which is now on display at the Herne Bay Museum.  There’s a great deal of other history concerning the ruins and immediate area which I won’t go into including a world air speed record, smuggling, and much more.  My interest during our visit was in photographing the ruins themselves and discovering the ghostly legends of Reculver.

St. Mary's or the Reculvers - ©Todd Edson 2008, All Rights Reserved.

Legends and ghosts:

An article from a Z. Cozens in “The Gentleman’s Magazine”, Volume 79, Part 2, Page 906, published in 1809 contains an article on the destruction of St. Mary’s.  The author describes the whole of the remaining memorials in an attempt to record them before they were destroyed and the remains of the dead were scattered to the wind and sea.  The author describes a monument which factors into the oldest chilling tale I could locate concerning the church:

“Within the alter rails, a mural monument on a pedestal of Bethersden marble, paneled and engraved, in a square recess of alabaster; the effigies kneeling of Sir Cavalliero Maycote and his lady, before a Prie Dieu; behind Sir Cavalliero, seven sons kneeling, behind the lady, one daughter.  Sir Cavalliero is in armour, hands closed, without his helmet, short hair, and close beard.  Lady Maycote, hooped petticoat, sack, ruff, and raised headdress.

“Here vnder waite (for a joyful resvrrection) the bodyes of dame Marie & of her hvsband Sr Cavalliero Maycote, knight, who lived together in greate contentment (from St. Andrew’s day, an’o 1586) fvll 20 yeares; in wch time thay had 8 son’es & one davghter, namely, John, Thomas, George, Richarde, Thomas, William, Harbert, George, & Elizabeth, wharof 5 sonnes dyed before them.  She was ye davghter of Thomas Monings, gent. & of Ales Crispe, sometime dwellers at Swanton in Lidden, & dyed on Christmas daye, an’o 1606.  He was ye sonne of George Maycote, gent. & of Margarette Brooker (longe dwellers in this parishe), and dyed……To all whome the Lord be mersifvll at the latter daye.””

The legend:

While researching St. Mary’s church I came across the following legend in “The Golden Rule and Odd Fellows’ Family Companion”, Volume 5, E. Winchester, 1846, page 168:

THE GREY MARE IN THE GARRET

A LEGEND OF THE OLDEN TIME

In the portal of the ancient church at Reculver, dedicated to the blessed Saint Mary, hung, many centuries ago, a picture, the portrait of a certain Dame Mary Maycote and her two children, of whom this singular story is related.  The picture was cavered by a curtain which she worked with her own hands.

Her husband, Sir Cavalierro Maycote, was, in the year of grace 1140, a rich burgomaster of the flourishing city of Canterbury, though he resided latterly in the fair town of Reculver, living at the sign of the Paroquet, in the Market Place.

During his lifetime a fearful plague desolated the south-west quarter of Kent, and among others he fell sick;  though his wife, Mary, who also fell sick of the pest, never recovered, but to all appearances died.

After the usual period had elapsed she was buried in the vaults of the church at Reculver dedicated to the blessed Saint Mary. 

She was buried, as the custom then was, with her jeweled rings on her fingers, and most of her rich ornaments on her person.  These tempted the cupidity of the sexton of the church.  He argued with himself that they were of no use to the corpse; and he determined to possess them.  Accordingly, he proceeded in the dead of the night, to the vault where she lay interred, and commenced the work of sacrilegious spoliation.  He first unscrewed the coffin lid; he then removed it altogether, and proceeded to tear away the shroud which interposed between him and his prey.  But what was his horror to perceive the corpse clasp her hands together; and, finally, to sit erect in the coffin.  He was rooted to the earth.  The corpse made as thought it would step from its narrow bed.  He fled, shrieking, through the vaults.  The corpse followed, its long white shroud floating like a meteor in the dim light of the lamp which, in his haste, he had forgotten.  It was not until he had reached his own door that he had sufficient courage to look behind him; and then, when he perceived no trace of his pursuer, the excitement which had sustained him so far subsided, and he sank senseless to the earth.

In the mean while, Sir Cavalierro Maycote, who had slept scarcely a minute since the death of his dear departed wife, was surprised by the voice of his old man servant, who rapped loudly at his chamber-door, and told him to awake and come forth, for that his mistress had arisen from the dead, and was then at the gate of the court-yard.

“Bah!” said Sir Cavaliero, pettishly; “go thy ways, Jacob; thou art mad or drunk; or thou art, surely, in a dream.  What thou sayest is impossible.  I should as soon believe my old grey mare had got into the garret, as that my wife was at the court-yard gate.”

Trot, trot, trot, suddenly resounded high over his head, -trot, trot, trot.

“What’s that?” asked he of Jacob.

“I know not,” Replied Jacob, “an it be not your old grey mare in the garret, Sir Cavaliero.”

They descended in haste to the court-yard, and looked up to the window of the attic.

Lo, and behold! There was, indeed, the grey mare with her head poked out of the window, gazing down with her great eyes on her master and his man, and seeming to enjoy very much her exulted situation, and their surprise and consternation at it.

Knock, knock, knock; went the rapper at the street gate.

“It is my mistress!” exclaimed Jacob. –“It is my wife!” exclaimed Sir Cavaliero, both in the same breath.

The door was quickly unfastened, and there, truly, stood the mistress of the mansion, enveloped in her shroud.

“Are you alive or dead?” exclaimed the astonished husband.

“Alive, my dear, but very cold.” Murmured the lady faintly, her teeth chattering the while, as those of one in a fever chill; “help me to my chamber.”

He caught her in his arms and covered her with kisses; then he bore her to her chamber, and called up the whole house to welcome and assist her.

She suffered a little from fatigue and fright; but in a few days she was well as could be expected under all the circumstances.

The thing began to be the talk of the good town of Reculver; and thousands flocked daily to see not alone the lady that was rescued from the grave in so remarkable a manner, but also the grey mare who strangely contrived to get into the garret, and so contribute to that rescue.

This excellent lady lived long and happily with her husband; and, at her death, was laid once more in her old quiet resting-place.

The grey mare, after remaining in the garret for three days, was got down by means of ropes, pulleys, machinery, and on inclined planes, quite safe and sound.  The interesting animal sometime survived her mistress, and grew to be a general favorite with the good people of Reculver.  When she died, her skin was stuffed and placed in the arsenal of the Roman station as a curiosity.

The sexton went mad with the fright he had sustained; and in a short time entered that bourne whence he had so unintentionally recovered the wife of the rich burgomaster.

Although there seems to be some inconsistencies to the dates with the memorial and the Grey Mare in the Garret story it’s likely one in the same.  One of the things I noticed which have caused some frustration is the inconsistency of timelines in a great deal of folklore in England.  There are many stories relating to the fear of being buried alive that span the times prior to the practice of embalming.  Some things in the information I read capture my imagination and raise questions:

What ever happened to the memorials and human remains at St. Mary’s?  Although very few memorials remain what happened to the bulk of them of which there should have been quite a few?  Were they moved to the new church location or destroyed with the church in 1809?  Why were some memorials left and others moved or destroyed?  What about the memorials and remains in the church itself?  Were these destroyed with the church and thrown as rubble into the new church and pier at Margate?  There is mention that there were vaults beneath the church and most churches in this timeframe have undercrofts, are these still there and just covered up or filled in?  There are many hollow sounding spots in the ruins so I speculate an undercroft or vaults are still there.  Are they filled with the disinterred bones and mortal remains of the partially washed away churchyard and surrounds?    Have all the disturbances of the remains caused the hauntings?  In several articles I read while researching the church there were mentions that there was a floor inside the church that was quite hard, so hard that there was some difficulty in gathering samples.  Is this floor still there and as with many other period churches in England are there memorials in the floor itself which is now covered with a layer of dirt and grass and the remains are now being walked around and over on a daily basis as people visit the site?  Perhaps someday these questions will be answered by archaeologists and historians or discovered in old documents from the period.  I strongly recommend against amateur excavations of any historical site as they are illegal as related in the Archaeological Area and Ancient Monuments Act.  Please leave the excavating to trained professionals who can conserve any artifacts discovered or treat what is discovered with the respect it deserves.  If you do happen to discover illegal activities or something washed up on the beach near here or on top of the ground please report it to the proper authorities.

Some of the other reputed hauntings I was able to locate on the internet mention a ghostly Roman officer, another is a whole legion of ghostly Romans marching into the sea which may be confused with stories about ghostly Romans at Richborough, a ghostly monk or pair of monks or mysterious hooded figures who walk the elevated space between the two towers, a ghostly woman in white, the sounds of ghostly horses, numerous ghosts in the surrounding fields and hedgerows, A ghostly customs officer and a smuggler sword fighting which is probably related to “The Smuggler’s Leap” in Ingoldsby Legends in which the chase starts at the Reculver but the ghosts are in another part of the countryside,  and most popular of all at the current time is the sounds of crying infants.

The crying infant story likely relates to the discovery by archaeologists in the 1960’s of near to a dozen infant skeletons buried in the walls and corners of buildings dating to the Roman fort.  It’s been speculated these were sacrifices to protect the buildings and inhabitants, or may be the remains of children exposed to die in the outdoors and then buried which was a common practice for the Romans with unwanted children.  I was unable to locate any stories prior to these excavations in relation to reports or stories of the grounds being haunted by infants.  Perhaps the unearthing of these infants caused the hauntings or as I speculate may be the cause of the other hauntings as many other remains washed away or rest unmarked in this ruin.

Another popular story of these ruins found on several ghost hunting sites refers to the mysterious black door which bars access to the towers themselves and the walkway between.  I was easily able to discover pictures and videos from the 1930’s to the 60’s which show that access to these areas was once allowed.  My guess is that the access is now blocked as it may be unsafe or to prevent vandalism and is not mysterious at all.

Even if access to the vaults and towers themselves isn’t possible now, there is no doubt that these ruins can easily capture the interest of those who visit there and are highly recommended by this author.

References for this chapter:

1. Frost, Thomas: “In Kent with Charles Dickens” (1880)
2. Murray, John: “A Handbook for Travellers in Kent and Sussex” (1858)
3. New Monthly Magazine, Volume 90 (1850)
4. Sherwood, Jones, and co: “The Terrific Register: or, Record of Crimes, Judgments, Providences, and Calamities” (1825
5. N. W. H. Allsop: “Coastlines, structures, and breakwaters” (1998)
6. Knight, Charles: “Old England: A Pictorial Museum” (1845)
7. Z. Cozens: “The Gentleman’s Magazine” Volume 79 (1809)
8. E. Winchester : “The Golden Rule and Odd Fellows’ Family Companion” Volume 5 (1846)

Online resources:

1. Project Woruldhord:  http://poppy.nsms.ox.ac.uk/woruldhord/contributions/504
2. Road Ghosts:  http://roadghosts.com
3. Spooky Tales of Reculver Towers and Sacrificial Hauntings: http://janetcameron.suite101.com/spooky-tales-of-reculver-towers-and-its-sacrificial-hauntings-a361664
4. Smugglers Britain: http://www.smuggling.co.uk/gazetteer_se_12.html
5. The Paranormal Database: http://www.paranormaldatabase.com/index.htm
6. Turner, Emma: “Kent Ghost Hunt” http://ezinearticles.com/?Kent-Ghost-Hunt&id=4815315
7. UK Paranormal Investigations: http://ukpi1.tripod.com/ukparanormalinvestigations/id2.html
8. Haunted Kent: http://www.hauntedkent.net

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Along the route we walked this time were several terrain changes which made the going a little difficult but the most exciting thing was the tracks we had to cross were all active and it was a busy night for trains so we had to be very careful.  You would think you could hear a train coming for a long enough distance to be pretty safe but the terrain in the area we were in was very mixed and we had a couple of close calls.  One was simply waiting out a couple of trains that were stopped at signals and we didn’t want to be spotted as the railroad companies get kinda upset about people walking along the tracks.  Since avoiding getting caught is part of my personal urban exploring code as well as Mr. X’s we ended up standing around in the cold waiting for a long time for both trains to move along.  We were in a nice dip in the land at the time and were mostly out of the wind so we found a seat on some tall dry grass and chatted as we waited and the cold started soaking in.

Finally after what seemed like an hour both trains moved on and we started making our way over and under walls, past tracks, and through water when all of a sudden Mr. X turned around and took off like a banshee was on his trail!  At the time I was about 40 feet behind him so I had no idea what we was spooked by as I neither heard nor saw anything but trusting my friend I too turned around and made my way back the way we came with haste!  A short distance later my friend made it across a set of tracks but just as he made it behind a wall to a safe spot and I was getting to the tracks he had just crossed, I spotted the light of an approaching train and had to think quickly!  I spotted a different wall pierced by a drainage area just large enough to fit me and my gear and ducked in and got into the shadows and waited for the train to come.  Within seconds after gaining cover I listened to the spooky sound of the railroad tracks singing and creaking and felt the ground shake with the massive weight of the approaching train.  Seconds later as I looked at the tracks just a few of feet away the locomotives started roaring by followed by a lengthy string of various cars.  It’s been awhile since I was so close to a train at speed and I was mesmerized by the sight, sound, and ground shaking majesty of industrial might of the train and felt much smaller compared to it’s gigantic size.  It was a long train and took several minutes to pass so I got comfortable and looked through the passing wheels for signs of my friend with no luck.  After the speeding train finally passed by I continued waiting for my friend who after several minutes of silence reappeared and we continued on our way with slightly elevated heart levels and even more careful attitudes than we already had.

After some more walking and jogging across open ground we made it to where we planned to access the buried brook and got to work opening the way in which went quickly.  After confirming we were where we thought we were we made our way down a set of rusty rungs into the darkness and a thick fog underground caused by the sudden temperature change of our opening.  The roar of trains were replaced by that of water rushing by that we had no idea how deep it was as we could barely see inches in front of our faces!  My friend went down first so had the task of scouting if it was safe and determined that it was fine as I made my way down and had to drop the last several feet as there were no more rungs.  It would make for an interesting exit but I had the forethought to bring some rope in my bag so we were covered.  After reaching the floor and several inches of fast moving water we started making our way towards our destination which was a short walk away.  The fog cleared up after walking for awhile and the tunnel features changed and changed again from concrete RCP to limestone square tunnel with cobblestone floors, and back and forth a couple of times.

One of my favorite things of the night beyond of course the company and photography was in one of the square limestone tunnel stretches which the walls were covered with a thick layer of mineral deposits making it look like we were walking in a cave with a river rushing through it.  Any time I spend underground is almost always a magical experience for me but there are sometimes moments that stay with me longer and sharper in my memory and even though the memory is fresh I think I will remember that section of tunnel for a long time.  Not only were the mineral deposits thick but they were many colors and textures from cream, to tan, to red, to orange, to black and more.  Dripping water had made bacon formations, stalactites, and bulbous protrusions on the walls and ceilings sometimes feet thick capturing my gaze and causing me to almost trip on the uneven floor more than once.  There were other features I enjoyed like a set of three pipes high in the wall next to each other pitting out thick cascades of water onto the floor and resembled three waterfalls as well as other things making the adventure even more fun.

All of a sudden the tunnel opened up and we walked into the large junction room of five tunnels joining and we had arrived at our destination.  One of the only problems of doing light painting photography in an underground brook is finding a dry spot to drop all the gear we had with us that was out of sight of the cameras and not in threat of getting washed away.  Luckily we found a couple of small spots out of sight at the mouth of a tunnel to the right of the first image that was out of sight and fairly dry.  Since most of our gear was in waterproof or resistant bags and cases it was all good and really nice to get the weight off our backs and relax and soak in the room for a bit and start planning our shots.  After a short time we had our first shots planned and started alternating who was directing the shot while we were in the same room shooting together.  My friend and I have known each other for almost a decade and soon settled into a comfortable routine of working together doing all the many tasks that go into creating light painting art as our cameras recorded the scenes.

Trout Brook Light Painting - ©Todd Edson 2012, All Rights Reserved.

The image above was created using my light wheel in each of the three tunnels, in the left and right tunnels I lit the tunnels from out of sight areas down the tunnels with powerful LED work lights that also gave us just enough light to see as we changed our locations to do the next task in creating the image.  In the center tunnel I created two light wheel tracks as well as spinning burning steel wool a bit further down the tunnel.  All these images are as shot with a little adjustment in post for noise reduction, color balance, and cropping and no other additions or subtractions to the image.

Trout Brook Light Painting - ©Todd Edson 2012, All Rights Reserved.

This image (featured image) was created near the end of the night as my friend was up the right tunnel some distance creating a cold cathode shot.  It’s the longest exposure of the night for me at just over eight minutes as I was working alone. In each of the tunnels I spun burning steel wool.  In the left and right tunnels I had the LED work lights setup, and in the middle tunnel I used a handheld flash pointing towards the camera to create the star effect.  My real favorite part of this shot is the floor itself.  I took a strand of 30 battery powered LED Christmas lights and stretched them out on the floor underwater and let the rushing current carry them along as I held the battery pack a couple of inches out of the water and walked with them.  I did that twice starting from behind the camera letting the current carry the LED lights.  This image is my personal favorite of the evening.  My silhouette in the right tunnel is on purpose and not quite as dark as I had hoped it would be but you can still see me.

Trout Brook Light Painting - ©Todd Edson 2012, All Rights Reserved.

There was almost a horrible accident during the creation of this image when I was spinning the steel wool.  During the planning of the image there was a slight misunderstanding and Mr. X was suppose to duck into the tunnel I was spinning from before I started but I thought we decided on after I was finished he was going to jump in and hit a flash.  Due to this misunderstanding I had already started lighting the wool and getting it going on the spin when Mr. X who was on the off camera right side walked right into the spark shower and caught a piece of burning wool in the corner of his eye.  I couldn’t see him when it happened but I sure heard him yell out in pain and I felt horrible!

Fortunately it was a minor injury and the night continued with only one more incident in which was our walking through fast running shallow water for hours caused splashing on our jeans legs to get wet and freeze on the way back to the car.  Such are the sacrifices one makes for the creation of art!

Trout Brook Light Painting - ©Todd Edson 2012, All Rights Reserved.

The second take of this image where no burning wool reached the eyes of the light painters!

Trout Brook Light Painting - ©Todd Edson 2012, All Rights Reserved.

I like how this image turned out a lot, I ran the light wheel and Mr. X spun the wool and got the flash in the center of burning ring of fire.

Trout Brook Light Painting - ©Todd Edson 2012, All Rights Reserved.

Going with a less is better sometimes idea on directing this image Mr. X came up with a winner on this one.

Trout Brook Light Painting - ©Todd Edson 2012, All Rights Reserved.

After working in the drain light painting for hours where we did our best to stay out of the images, I wanted to get one with the both of us in it which is the thought behind this image.  It didn’t turn out quit like I wanted as we were both supposed to be in closer to the center but in the darkness it’s difficult.  A different take at it as in order!

Trout Brook Light Painting - ©Todd Edson 2012, All Rights Reserved.

As we reset the shot I decided rather than just get our silhouettes we would show ourselves by flash light with Mr. X on the left and me on the right.

Trout Brook Light Painting - ©Todd Edson 2012, All Rights Reserved.

The above feature was the main reason we picked visiting this section of the drain.  It looks horizontal in the image but it was elevated at around a 30 degree slope and the protruding rings are there to slow the water flow much like a step drain.  I REALLY wanted to get a shot of this feature with a light wheel with the results in the image below.

Trout Brook Light Painting - ©Todd Edson 2012, All Rights Reserved.

Even though the trails of light from the light wheel don’t quite complete in the first ring I still love how this image turned out and it was the final shot of the night.  After that we packed up and made our way back up to the surface and through the train obstacles and finally to my car and home to a hot shower, food, and some sleep.

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Trout Brook Light Painting - ©Todd Edson 2012, All Rights Reserved.

My friend who in this story will be known as Mr. X (although I don’t call him that) and I have been planning to go on an outing to see a historical area stream.  We weren’t hoping to go fishing but we did want to do some photography and light painting.  We ended up going fishing and then fishing some more, as the rumble of trains filled the silence of a video game like afternoon and night of frozen feet and fun.

Right before Christmas Mr. X and I had been planning on going to Trout Brook a locally famous creek that was buried underground by the expanding city and mostly forgotten by everyone a long time ago.  Although I’m confident there are no more trout in Trout Brook we did end up fishing around a lot before actually getting down to the business of photography.  As things often happen around the holidays the plan to go do some underground photography got put off by other parties and other events including a new years wedding and then my birthday shortly after.  Finally we were able to get our schedules right, the moon in the right phase, and the weather not horrible for Minnesota in January so we met up yesterday and these images are the result.

Trout Brook Light Painting - ©Todd Edson 2012, All Rights Reserved.

We ended up loading up enough gear that we should have had the foresight to hire a local Sherpa who knew the terrain but we aren’t the kind that tremble at the prospect of managing it ourselves.  The gear consisted of my pack which weighed in at around thirty plus pounds of camera gear, light painting equipment such as cold cathodes, LED wand’s, steel wool for spinning, batteries, flash, tripod, a few beers, and some beef jerky as well as the usual exploring pack.  Mr. X has his own bag and camera, and tripod, and my light wheel but in all we had a bunch of gear and weight.  We first went to one entrance but it was impractical during the day and being somewhat discrete we opted to try for another entrance we had from a reliable source.  During the first hike which was about an hour and a half we did spot some fantastic rail tunnels dating back to the 1800′s as well as more modern ones.  All the lines are still active but I plan on going back to light paint some of these tunnels in the near future if I can do it safety.

Trout Brook Light Painting - ©Todd Edson 2012, All Rights Reserved.

After getting back into my car and relocating a bit further down the road we hiked around one of the city parks and trails for a couple of hours looking for the right needle in the haystack that led to the right place.  During this second part of the evening we saw a lot more trains and walked in landscape that was not urban, not video game, but something from a place in between where everything was surreal.  We silently walked past the places in the city that were forgotten and empty just waiting for the occupants to return.  I felt like we were in between the shadows as we walked past a whole hobo village abandoned as if waiting for warmer days to return.  I was fully prepared to encounter characters from Neverwhere stepping out of an abandoned maintenance tunnel for a breath of fresh air.

Trout Brook Light Painting - ©Todd Edson 2012, All Rights Reserved.

After a great deal wandering around we finally decided to wander up the trail a bit more to where we knew was a guaranteed entrance Mr. X had discovered years ago.  The only problem was it’s an inlet which turned out to be a belly crawl pushing our gear in front of us through a small pipe trying our best to keep dry as water was flowing down the center of the pipe.  After crawling through that and into a larger drain where the water cascaded it’s way down the slight grade we eventually made it into the large 13 foot arrowhead shaped drain where the brook runs underground.

Trout Brook Light Painting - ©Todd Edson 2012, All Rights Reserved.

Since the floor of any respectable underground brook is covered in water it made for an interesting shape in the tunnel with a reflection off the water running along the floor.  I discovered my right boot was no longer waterproof within seconds as my wool liner got squishy and my foot got instantly cold.  I wasn’t going to let that stop the night so we found a part of the brook where there was a high side on the right where I could keep my leaky foot relatively dry and drop all our gear.  We set up both cameras and got out the light gear and started having some fun.

The first thing we tried out was a light wheel I made which made the geometric patterned lights.  Given the shape of the drain this tool was useful and made for an interesting composition but we needed more.  I got out the steel wool I packed along and we were soon wishing for more as a couple of bundles went right into the stream and were washed away.  The spinning of steel wool is what made for the sparks and fireworks looking effects which looked great and as we were in an inflammable location were nice and safe.  Next came out the cold cathodes although by that time we were getting tired and only tried a few of the many colors.  We also used a speed light flash which created the burst of light.

Trout Brook Light Painting - ©Todd Edson 2012, All Rights Reserved.

By the time we took a few more shots we were full of ideas for the next trip and happy with what we had for the night.  We packed up gear and made our way out and back down the trail to the car and soon some warmth.  My wet foot was a frozen block that took hours to finally warm up and as usual I ended up with an assortment of scrapes, blisters, and bruises and probably left some blood somewhere in payment for a nights creation of art.  It was worth it.

Trout Brook Light Painting - ©Todd Edson 2012, All Rights Reserved.

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Whitby Ruins - ©Todd Edson 2008, All Rights Reserved.

Whitby Ruins - ©Todd Edson 2008, All Rights Reserved.

Whitby Ruins - ©Todd Edson 2008, All Rights Reserved.

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Getting to the caves themselves is a couple of mile hike over very rough and uneven ice and snow and will give any visitor a good workout and possibly sore hips the next day.  By the time we returned to our hotel that night the hot tub was a very welcome thing and we both felt the workout for days afterward.  In the warm seasons we are out camping and hiking up to sixteen miles a day but hiking on ice and snow really takes it out of you!

The conditions have to be right for the ice caves to be accessible so they aren’t open every year.  If you’re interested in visiting you can check to see if they are open at the Bayfield Chamber of Commerce website.  If you enjoy coastal areas that whole area is fantastic in winter or summer and well worth the visit as is my favorite the North Shore of Lake Superior in Minnesota.

The weather here in Minnesota isn’t looking good to be a white Christmas this year which is why I was reminiscing about snow today and retouched these fantastic HDR images of the ice caves.  I know by April I will probably be sick of winter but right now I would sure welcome a couple of feet of snow as the brown dead blah and cold I have now is getting pretty old.  I’m crossing my fingers that the caves will be accessible in February again this year as we want to take a couple of close friends there who haven’t seen them.  Here’s wishing you all a happy holiday season and Merry Christmas and may they be white!

Ice Caves - ©Todd Edson 2009, All Rights Reserved.

Ice Caves - ©Todd Edson 2009, All Rights Reserved

Ice Caves - ©Todd Edson 2009, All Rights Reserved.

Ice Caves - ©Todd Edson 2009, All Rights Reserved.

Ice Caves - ©Todd Edson 2009, All Rights Reserved.

Ice Caves - ©Todd Edson 2009, All Rights Reserved.

Ice Caves - ©Todd Edson 2009, All Rights Reserved.

Ice Caves - ©Todd Edson 2009, All Rights Reserved.

Ice Caves - ©Todd Edson 2009, All Rights Reserved.

Ice Caves - ©Todd Edson 2009, All Rights Reserved.

Ice Caves - ©Todd Edson 2009, All Rights Reserved.

Ice Caves - ©Todd Edson 2009, All Rights Reserved.

Ice Caves - ©Todd Edson 2009, All Rights Reserved.

Ice Caves - ©Todd Edson 2009, All Rights Reserved.

Ice Caves - ©Todd Edson 2009, All Rights Reserved.

Ice Caves - ©Todd Edson 2009, All Rights Reserved.

Ice Caves - ©Todd Edson 2009, All Rights Reserved.

Ice Caves - ©Todd Edson 2009, All Rights Reserved.

Ice Caves - ©Todd Edson 2009, All Rights Reserved.

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Light and Glass Study - ©Todd Edson 2011, All Rights Reserved.

Light and Glass Study - ©Todd Edson 2011, All Rights Reserved.

Light and Glass Study - ©Todd Edson 2011, All Rights Reserved.

Light and Glass Study - ©Todd Edson 2011, All Rights Reserved.

 
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Sea Cave - Tintagel, Cornwall - ©Todd Edson 2008, All Rights Reserved.

There are an abundance of sea caves around the Tintagel area of Cornwall and I was fortunate enough to be able to explore several while the tide was in my favor.  My wife decided to stay near the entrance of this one and held still just long enough for me to get a long exposure in to capture the drama and mystery of this cave.

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Orchid Study - ©Todd Edson 2010, All Rights Reserved.

I spent some time in studio creating these images with orchids, a moon moth, an LED light wand, and cumulative flash from two AB800 strobes.  I enjoy light painting and bring that skill into my fine art shots when I can.

Orchid Study - ©Todd Edson 2010, All Rights Reserved.

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This window intrigued me enough that I spent some time creating an image of it capturing how I saw it.

Chapel Window, Bodiam Castle - East Sussex - ©Todd Edson 2008, All Rights Reserved.

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