Frogs & flowers, Saturday 22nd June 2019

A nice prospect: the pit opening up, but tinged with frustration at criminal damage

It was an absolutely cracking day at Hemingfield for the Open Day. Compared to the previous fortnight when rain stopped play. The sun was beating down, baking the ground, drawing all the greenery higher. Set against the bright blue sky it was beautiful; still the crew were eager to get back on site and stuck in once more. Friends Chair Steve, and Site Manager Glen opened up, joined by regular volunteers John, Paul, Chris and Keith during the day which was equal parts glorious sunshine and hard yacker.

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Mowing the meadow, Open Day, Sat 25th May 2019

Ah, this is the life. The Great Outdoors. Hemingfield Pit life. A sun-drenched, hazily blue-skied morning with the Friends and regular volunteers arriving at Hemingfield; a cool breeze and whispy clouds drifting by as the gates opened wide in welcome for another busy working day.

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Open Day, Saturday 3rd November 2018

Notching up November

On Saturday morning the Friends of Hemingfield Colliery returned to work on another open day. The approach of winter hardens the ground and turns the air, so working out doors becomes harder and the days slightly shorter as the clocks fell back at the end of October. With the great sleep-in behind us, the Friends and regular volunteers were eager to face the ultimate challenge: shifting the Great Stump.

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Open Day, Saturday 6th October 2018

October mild

The Friends of Hemingfield Colliery arrived early on site, swinging the gates wide open and stepping into the pit yard. Expecting rain, but finding mostly dry terrain and pleasant working conditions in the mild autumnal air. Looking over across the valley over to Hemingfield proper, the sky was cloudy but blue, and the farmed fields in the distance contrasted with the dense and beautifully dis-colouring trees nearby. It is a turning point in the year when days shorten, clocks go back and woolly jumpers emerge.  American poet Robert Frost put it crisply:

O hushed October morning mild,
Thy leaves have ripened to the fall;
Tomorrow’s wind, if it be wild,
Should waste them all.

(From ‘October’, published in A Boy’s Will, 1913)

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