And so the story begins.

This book is in the story box at The Jubilee Hut Webbers Post. The idea is simple, inside each of the six blue boxes are journals, and each is started by a different author, you read the story so far, add a little or a drawing, then leave for the next to carry the story on.

Last year these were very successful with nearly 1000 people touching the five boxes, so this year we are doing the same again with six, (or twelve if you want to include the Poetry boxes at Valley of Rocks, Lynton.)

This year we have Jackie Morris, Catherine Hyde, and Victoria Eveleigh, all published authors and illustrators, but we are not revealing which is where, that's for you to walk and hunt and find for yourself. The books are already filling very nicely, and I think this year we will build on last years success and get even more people interacting with the project.

So where are they, and will I have to walk the whole of the 51 miles to find them!

No, actually the extension from Porlock to Lynton, has happened since the project was agreed, so they are within the original 36 miles, but that is still a huge stretch. So Mr Jelley's website http://jelley.info has a Coleridge Way tab listing the project details, including a story box video and a map with pins suggesting where the boxes are located. 

Here is the long hand version.

The first is at Coleridge Cottage, the second, Watery Lane, Nether Stowey.

The third above East Quantockhead over looking the Church, the forth at The Notley Arms, Monksilver (you can drink and dine whilst reading this one!)

The fifth is at The Jubilee Hut, Webbers Post, and the sixth at the Visitor Centre in Porlock.

I'll be checking on and changing the books over these coming three months, June, July and August, keeping them fresh and posting images of book pages. Storywalks broadcasts on Twitter and Facebook channels, so follow and like and see where your story has gone, or better still get out there and add your little piece of magic to the trail.

Exhibition at Lynmouth Pavilion in September 2014 of both Poetry and Story books.

Note - Poetry Boxes are funded by Lynmouth Pavilion Project and the Story Boxes ARTlife's Coleridge Way Projects, and all are placed with full landowners permissions.

Poetry in motion

Next month Christopher Jelley will be installing the next batch of Coleridge Way QR Code Poetry along the original 36 mile section of the trail. Last year this type of poetry was installed in several places including Nether Stowey, Webbers Post and Dunster's Conygar Tower.  The codes were laser etched onto slate and installed mainly in larger tablet sized form, with the exception being Watery Lane which is at the foot of the Coleridge Way trail. Here he installed small badge sized tiles (pictured) and it was thought that works in 2014 should continue in this style as far along the trail as was feasible.

QR Code poem nestling on a finger post, scan if you want to read!

Last year's poetry connected with three local schools with pupils aged between 7 and 11, and this year we have managed to up that to five schools, producing nearly 100 poems. This work (see other posts) was basically a response to the Somerset landscape, much of it along the Coleridge Way, answering the questions, what do you see, hear, feel, etc.

These poems were then whittled down to 80 or so and are at the etchers as I write, hopefully producing enough poetry tiles to cover a good section of the 36 miles of gates and sign posts from Nether Stowey to Porlock. Christopher say's 'I am really proud to be placing the words of the little authors back into the landscape which inspired them. The workshops with the schools are always full of surprises, one child wrote 'My hand is turning into a mermaids hand' magic,'

The canopy above the Cist at Dunster Woods near Roadwater
along the Coleridge Way trail.

So how do we read the poetry?

Very simply you'll need to install an app in your smart phone, but don't worry, as there are lots of free ones available.

QR Codes are often termed square bar codes, we have been familiar with regular strip shaped bar codes for over a generation now, these are the ones on the backs of books or packs of sausages. They are just strings of numbers which the scanner reads, but with a square QR code they can include letters, numbers and other characters too.

Today you'll see them everywhere, on the backs of vans, newspaper adds or promotional links. Most often these point to web sites which the scanner then feeds you conveniently through to. But that is a level of sophistication which we don't need here, out on the Moors there is little if any reception, so linking to a website would simply not work. But if we use QR codes in their simplest form, to reveal plain text, then we can encode short stanza's of poetry inside. Your smart phone decodes through its lens and you can read the hidden words without internet reception, it's all done in the handset.

The Cist clearing at Dunster Woods near Roadwater
along the Coleridge Way trail.

So before you embark (and leave wifi and data zones behind) install a scanning app in your smart phone, there are lots to choose from as QR codes have been around for about 20 years. Choose a free one which will do everything you will need and possibly a lot more. Install it and give it a go scanning anything that you see, my photograph of the finger post above works, and newspapers are often full of them.

So here are two examples of the pupils poetry, both were written by Stogursey Primary school children, they are inspired by their walk at Hodders Combe which was a favourite haunt of Coleridge and the Wordsworths.

1

as I walked through the lush green Hodders Combe

I heard the birds tweeting

morning greetings

as I wondered through the sunny Hodders Combe

I saw a fence protecting people from fallen trees

in the morning breeze

the beautiful sun was beaming like a star

as I walked through the calm Hodders Combe

I got to the enchanted river

I saw the freezing cold water fighting it's way

over the gleaming fallen tree log

2

it was a lovely summers day

birds were singing happily

a chainsaw was stretching like an animal

birds were whisking

I saw an extremely fluffy sheep

and webs that looked like stars

I smelt the minty moss

and elf ears in the trees

there were pretty leaves everywhere

then I got pricked

Frances Harrison's Dark Starry Skies

Frances Harrison's exhibition at All Saints Church Dulverton was a culmination of a broad spectrum of work under the blanket title of Dark Starry Skies. Works displayed encompassed film, print, and a story telling cafe, along side flower displays from the Church wardens, and even a dress sequinned with constellations. Members of the local community had also produced tapestries depicting their personal take on what dark starry skies meant to them.

Starry Flower Displays

The church itself is a hard act to follow in respect to grandeur and shear space to fill, but the work nestled in well amongst the arches and pillars. The film on show was made in conjunction with the Engine Room of Bridgwater, and Ignite Somerset, and celebrates the textures and feel of Exmoor's combes and rivers. The screen sat in the pulpit echoing the magical words of Kubla Khan, linking in Coleridge with the Exmoor Dark Skies Reserve.

Throughout the church quotes and text were printed on large banners, hanging from the stone pillars adding visual depth and rhythm to the exhibition, hosting quotes from Coleridge and Galileo along side the more contemporary words of Brian Cox.

Starry dress reflected in an acrylic print which are stills from the film.

Poetry on the pillars

The week came to a peak with France's illustrated talk on 'The Sublime and the Beautiful' which married art, literature and landscape alongside romanticism and its influences of the time before and after Coleridge. Over the week the venue had over a hundred visitors a day, which included local school children who came along to listen to stories about starry skies.

. . relish the rain and sun in equal measure

     In a shady valley not far from here, where the river slides over cool rocks beneath muscular Oaks, the Last Queen visited once. A small courtage followed and everyone barefoot (by decree) till the edge of Paisey Pool. There she stepped lightly into the cool waters and even the birds were hush as she dipped beneath the water, her train billowing in the flow. But when she emerged but a heart beat later age had been purged from her limbs and her body was lithe and supple.

     She turned to the company and addressed the barefoot lords who waited.

'These are the new rules of my reign' and the scribe began to take notes.

'Firstly . . .

     We shall walk barefoot always, mirrors will be banished - our lovers, children and friends will reflect our beauty in all our transformations. 

We will dine on nothing but the finest, freshest fruits and berries. 

Celebrate each season, relish the rain and sun in equal measure. 

Have no need for clocks or time pieces other than the sun and the moon.

     We shall . .

Fragment from story book box at Webbers Post

Continuation of the story above.

Yesterday I ventured out to the Jubilee Hut at Webbers Post with a little intrepidation, the last time I visited I removed a book which was full and replaced it with this one. It was only about two weeks ago, but the journal in question had become a visitor book, not a story book.

The concept of the story box is simple, find the box read the tale so far, add a drawing or paragraph but no more then leave for the next walker. So when it devolves into a guest book I feel a little saddened and hoped this one would not fall foul the same. I wrestled with putting a note inside saying 'This is not a visitor book, story only please' but I rile at that, my mind set is one of enablement, not of impediments. But once someone breaks the thread of a tale it drifts naturally into the visitor book mode. So with all that said, just before I set out I did print some thin book marks to tuck in the active pages to negate the drift.

Also last week I received an email from Katie Bourne who stumbled across this story box with her two year old and loved the project, she also mentioned 'the visitor book syndrome' and I knew she was looking at the newly installed journal which added to my anxiety. She went on to link to a Braunton project which she had managed a while back, similar to my storywalks work with GPS location triggered content, but Katie admits herself that some of the tech is already a little dated, but still worth checking out.

So yesterday I walked through the sun dappled trees at Webbers Post on the way to the Jubilee Hut which is where this box is installed. It is a stunning location, the crunch of pine needles, glimpses of deer (got close enough to pet two!) give me any excuse to go breath in the Exmoor tonic.

Illustration of Dunkery Beacon from this story box location

So I nervously approached the box, pleased it had not disappeared totally, (I am expecting to lose one or two over the summer). But the box looked perfect, with a good scuff on the lid (good, box in use), I opened it and found it well used in a relatively short period, but more to the point it was well used in the intended manner. Yes there are a few additions which wander off into the guest book cul-de-sac, but the meat is of tale, and more than I could have hoped.

Story Box on the bench next to the QR poetry project
at the Jubilee Hut, Webbers Post.

I added a little tale to the tale to gather some of the threads, took lots of pictures of the pages and then left the box once again to the wilds and whims of strangers. But when I checked my photo's at home last night, they were dreadful, so later that evening I drove out again with Davina (Walking Book Club), and not only did we see more deer, but a stunning sunset, and in that short time another visitor had added to the tale.

Brilliant.

So thanks to all those who have contributed, for me it recharges my faith in the creativity of strangers, the willingness to engage with the wilds of Exmoor, and add a little cumulative magic to the whole, just for the fun of it. 

I know that in years to come I will meet people who will remember stumbling across the story boxes, anonymously adding their mark or just enjoy seeing the of story grow there in.