Winter Solstice

Kites and worms, bell ringing, walls and gateways, noise and peace

Dec 22, 2025

Clare Jackson is a wealth of knowledge on the Kent countryside, and has a deep sense of place emphasised by the importance of being fully present. Over the past twelvemonth, she has been engaged in an artists residency at Ripple Farm Organics on land where her maternal ancestors were agricultural workers. Within that farmed land is an amazing walled garden. A circular one. To acknowledge the end of her residency, the beginning of the next phase of this project, and the turning of the year, she invited some fellow artists to join her within this circle.

Solstice revellers circumnavigate the wall

During this time, Clare has also been party to a few festive folk and faux lore events alongside yours truly. Obviously that means there has to be an element of costume involved. A headdress opportunity.

There is something, I find, in the wearing of a headdress, a mask, a costume, that focuses the mind on the job rather beautifully.

Having just written that, I have sat staring at the words and thinking of various characters who have had ‘writing hats’ and wondering if maybe I need a “get on with it hat”. I’ll come back to that. Sometime.

Optional headdresses, food and drink, not just to share with each other, but to offer with the place maybe. And what else would we bring? What thoughts, what words, what noise?

Visual artist Lucy Stockton-Smith specialises in creative education, enrichment activities and participatory arts events. She has a thing about clouds, and if you haven’t listened to her and Clare talking as they lay on their backs in the garden this summer, I suggest you do - the Folkestone Ladies cloud formation were the first of the big haired Marie Antoinettish characters that crossed my path this year. Lucy also likes bells.

Bell ringing is used traditionally, and especially at this time of year, for both clearing out the old, those stubborn spirits lurking unhappily stuck, and welcoming in the new to the clear fresh space. Bells acknowledge change.

Dugfired ceramicist Claire Sumner practice is also deeply rooted in a use of natural materials and that same sense of place. She sources ‘wild clay’ for her work, and inspired Clare to create a bell from the local clay here at the garden.

Glass artists Alma Caira is a regular conspirator with Clare’s Dwellbeing walks, and one of the three artists involved in the creation of the Beacon of Hope, together with artist and educator Mary Stockton-Smith. Mary’s current work has a strong narrative and is mainly realised through drawing and print, and is inspired once again by that sense of place: in her case specifically the Estuary. Alma has roots in her own garden, and a fascination for the year round growth of seeds to plants and back again. On their walks, these three eat cake, I mean, gather mental seeds for future work and growth.

Seeds were very much in my mind when Clare asked for our thoughts for our gathering. I decided to make some seedy crisp breads, to eat with some fiery non-alcoholic ginger wine. At this time of year, seeds appear dormant, but they are in fact very busy. Seeds, like us, need some time to just ‘be’, and to be in that space we have chosen, to gather strength and thoughts, ready to burst forward again come Spring. A tiny seed contains so much. I think perhaps a lavender seed is the smallest I have ever sown, and the resulting bush, and volume of seed from that one tiny speck puts our own endeavours so much into perspective.

Claire, Angel and I sounding out ‘our’ bells

Angel Young is a healer and artist is hugely in favour of serendipity “of following the sunshine, or retreating from the rain, or chasing snowflakes. Of prioritising life over safety and control”. We were ready to retreat from the impending rain, but our joy convinced the watery winter sun to appear for us. The Sun watched the proceedings thinly veiled by clouds, following the arc of the garden wall.

The walled garden is a productive space, one we all fully appreciated having the luxury in which to roam, with history all around us. Modern history in the farm machinery. Older in the bricks and nails, in the giant ancient tree roots. Older still in the ground. In the spirits we awoke.

A drum began our proceedings, with a procession around the outside circumference of the wall. This took us past the Beacon of Hope, and under a pheasant fly past. We then gathered our baskets and headed to the centre, where once upon a time there had been a sundial.

Here we had coffee and shared good food, then out came the bells, choosing the one which ‘spoke’ to us each. Alma meanwhile had Wee Alma in her pocket, complete with her own bell, a full participant in the proceedings.

Wee Alma with her bell, and Alma’s choice of the broken Charles & Di bell…

From ringing in the centre, we headed out to the compass points of the wall, and rang in circles, one at a time, then back, then all together, and walked back to the centre. Here we rang and swapped bells until ‘our’ one was returned to us. There definitely was a ripple in time and space. A worm came up to bask upon the silver plate reflecting the sun, and crossed the earthenware dish holding our candle - this one made by Claire from clay gathered nearby. At the same time, a red kite took flight from the north end of the garden following the line of the top of the wall, flying up like Icarus but swooping back down to finish it’s lap. Just magical.

the red kite; bells, sun plate, candles and wellies; Sun worm

Louise, Clare’s sister, left her Solstice headdress around the worm as protection (we didn’t want to tread on it, and having drummed it up, we had responsibilities) and we gave our thanks to the space, and left.

Smiling and laughing, warm in body and mind, although feet beginning to feel the change in the weather, the sun seemed to wish us well, and dipped off into the clouds and the rain came.