Category Archives: Month

August, East Sussex, England, High Weald, Natural History, South East, Summer, UK, Woodland & Parks

Lake Wood Uckfield – Sandstone Caves and Woodland Lake

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Introduction

Lake Wood, on the western edge of Uckfield, is a hidden corner of the High Weald. It offers a peaceful woodland walk, dramatic sandstone outcrops, and a spring-fed lake with a history that blends natural geology with human design.

Here’s a short reel from my visit:

A reminder of how geology, landscape, and community care combine to create something special.

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Natural History

Lake Wood sits within the High Weald, one of the most geologically distinctive landscapes in southern England. Around 140 million years ago, during the Cretaceous, sands and clays were laid down in a shallow sea. Over time, erosion stripped away the softer clays and left behind the harder sandstone ridges.

The outcrops here belong to the Ardingly Sandstone — the same formation that gives rise to Eridge Rocks and other striking cliff faces across the Weald. These rocky ledges, caves, and gullies create a unique microclimate where mosses, lichens, and ferns thrive.

The lake itself is spring-fed and seepage-fed through surrounding rocks and peat, forming a balanced ecosystem for aquatic life and woodland species.

Human Influence

In the early 19th century, the estate owner landscaped Lake Wood in the romantic picturesque style. Tunnels, steps, and even a boathouse were carved directly into the sandstone, blending natural features with human design.

What feels ancient and untouched is partly a crafted vision, shaped to enhance its beauty and mystery. Today, the Woodland Trust manages the site, preserving both its ecological value and historic character.

Conservation

Lake Wood is no ordinary woodland — it has survived repeated threats of development thanks to decades of effort from the local community. Volunteers work tirelessly to keep the paths open, clear litter, and protect wildlife.

Erosion from footfall can expose tree roots and wear away the sandstone ledges, so staying to the marked paths is important. Signs also ask visitors not to swim or fish, as the delicate pH of the lake must be preserved.

The latest challenge came as recently as 2024, when a large housing appeal was dismissed after strong local opposition. Lake Wood stands today because people continue to care about it.

Practical Info

  • Location: Lake Wood, west of Uckfield, East Sussex
  • Access: Free access via Rocks Park Road (limited parking nearby). Managed by the Woodland Trust.
  • Best Time to Visit: Year-round — spring brings fresh woodland growth, autumn brings colour, and low sun highlights the sandstone cliffs.
  • Nearby:
    • Eridge Rocks – dramatic sandstone outcrops and nature reserve.
    • Ashdown Forest – open heathland, famous as the home of Winnie-the-Pooh.
    • Sheffield Park Garden – landscaped 18th-century garden with lakes and woodland walks.

August, East Sussex, England, History, Memorials, South Downs, South East, Summer, UK

The Butts Brow Liberator Memorial – Ruth-Less 1944

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Introduction

On a winter’s day in February 1944, a United States Army Air Forces B-24 Liberator named Ruth-Less tried to limp back across the Downs after a raid on V-1 rocket sites in northern France. It never made it. The bomber struck the ridge at Butts Brow above Eastbourne, killing all ten men on board. Today, a simple plaque set into the hillside remembers their sacrifice.

Here’s a short reel capturing the memorial and the view across the Downs:

A small stone, a wide landscape, and a story that travelled across the Atlantic.

👉 View Butts Brow on Google Maps
👉 See all my mapped locations here

The Crash of Ruth-Less

On 2 February 1944, B-24D Liberator 41-24282, code BAR-Y, of the 44th Bomb Group, was returning from a mission over northern France. The aircraft had been badly damaged by enemy fire and was flying through heavy cloud and severe icing.

The crew tried to reach the emergency landing strip at Friston, just beyond Eastbourne. But in low visibility the bomber clipped the ridge at Butts Brow and broke apart. Eight men died instantly; the remaining two succumbed to their injuries later that day at Princess Alice Hospital.

ruth-less memorial butts brow south downs
ruth-less memorial butts brow south downs

The crew are remembered by name on the plaque: Edward J. Ackerman, James H. Bales, James O. Bolin, George M. Dewald, Aubrey J. Maloy, Harold W. Schwab, Ralph E. Strait, James L. Wilson, Orville L. Wulff, and Chester W. Yurick.

Ruth-Less had already survived the famous 1943 Ploiești raid on Romania’s oil fields — one of the toughest missions of the war. That it was lost here, within sight of safety, gives the stone on Butts Brow an added poignancy.

The memorial plaque was unveiled in 1995 through the efforts of local historian Kevin Watson.

Practical Info

Location: Butts Brow, Willingdon, Eastbourne, East Sussex (plaque lies south of the main car park on the ridge).
Access: Public footpaths across the Downs; easiest from the Butts Brow car park.
Best time to visit: Clear days for far-reaching views, or quiet winter afternoons for atmosphere.
Nearby:

  • Beachy Head – The cliff-top lighthouse and another wartime crash site
  • Friston Airfield Memorial – The landing ground the crew never reached
  • Eastbourne Redoubt – The seafront fort that guarded the coast
  • Wilmington Hill – great views east across the east Sussex countryside

Reflection

It’s easy to walk past a small plaque in the grass. But standing here, looking across the same horizon those ten men never crossed, the scale of the sacrifice becomes real. Butts Brow holds not just a view, but a memory.

Castles, East Sussex, England, History, July, landscape photography, Reels and Shorts, Ruins & Remains, Rye, South East, Summer, UK, Videography, Winchelsea

Camber Castle – The Lost Fortress of the Camber Inlet

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Introduction

Hidden in the low-lying fields between Rye and Winchelsea stands Camber Castle, a strange and striking ruin that seems oddly out of place — a fortress marooned in farmland, far from the sea it once defended.

This is the story of how a powerful Tudor stronghold built by Henry VIII became a forgotten relic of a vanished coastline.

Watch the video short below to see it from the air:

What you’re seeing here is more than just a ruined castle — it’s a monument to lost landscapes and shifting tides.

➡️ View Camber Castle on Google Maps
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A Sea Fortress with No Sea

Built between 1539 and 1544 on the orders of Henry VIII, Camber Castle (originally called Winchelsea Castle) was part of a chain of artillery forts designed to defend England’s southern coastline against threats from France and Spain. At the time of construction, the Camber was a wide tidal inlet of the sea, and the castle sat in a prime position to guard shipping lanes and protect the nearby ports of Rye and Winchelsea.

Its unique cloverleaf design — with four rounded bastions and a central keep — was built to house heavy guns and withstand siege warfare, reflecting Henry’s obsession with new, gunpowder-based fortifications.

But the sea had other plans.

Shifting Shores

Over the centuries, the Camber inlet gradually silted up due to longshore drift, storm surges, and natural sedimentation. The coastline pushed steadily seaward, leaving Camber Castle increasingly stranded inland. By the late 1500s, the once-coastal fortress was now over a mile from navigable waters.

Its military usefulness declined just as England’s naval strategy evolved. By the 1630s, it was abandoned.

Today, it sits in open countryside, its thick stone walls a ghost of the sea that once lapped at its base.

A Castle Reclaimed

Though long out of use, Camber Castle wasn’t entirely forgotten. It was visited by antiquarians in the 18th century, drawn by its unusual layout and melancholic setting. In recent decades, it’s become a managed heritage site under English Heritage and the Sussex Wildlife Trust.

Inside, Tudor-era graffiti still survives, scratched into the stone by long-forgotten hands. And around the site, nature thrives: skylarks, sheep, and sweeping views of Romney Marsh.

camber castle ruins rye east sussex
camber castle ruins rye east sussex

A drone flight over the castle reveals its layout clearly — and helps us imagine how it might have looked in the days when it stood watch over a busy inlet. We’ve even included an AI reconstruction in the video to bring that forgotten coastline back to life.

Practical Info

Location: Between Rye and Winchelsea, East Sussex, England
Access: On foot via public paths from Rye Harbour Nature Reserve or Winchelsea
Best Time to Visit: Early morning or golden hour for photography and wildlife
Nearby: Rye, Winchelsea, Camber Sands, Pett Level, Mary Stanford Boathouse

Final Thoughts

Camber Castle isn’t just a ruin — it’s a lesson in how landscapes change, how coastlines move, and how the ambitions of kings can be undone by mud and tide.

If you find yourself near Rye, it’s worth the walk. There’s something strangely powerful about standing in a field where the sea once crashed, and where the past still echoes off every stone.

August, East Sussex, England, Hastings, History, Reels and Shorts, Ruins & Remains, South East, Summer, UK, Videography

St Mary’s Chapel, Bulverhythe – A Medieval Ruin Marooned in Suburbia

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Introduction

Hidden away off Bulverhythe Road in St Leonards, surrounded by mid-20th century houses, stand the ruins of St Mary’s Chapel. Once part of a thriving medieval harbour settlement, the fragment that survives today is one of Hastings’ strangest and most overlooked historical sites.

Here’s a short film exploring the story:

For map explorers:

The Story of St Mary’s Chapel

The ruins you see today are the chancel walls of a medieval chapel, first built in the Norman period by the Earls of Eu, then later rebuilt in the 13th–14th centuries in Early English style.

Archaeological digs in 1861 and again in 1929 revealed burials, carved stones, and the ground plan of a church that was once over 100 feet long. The tower foundations now lie beneath Bexhill Road, but the surviving flint and rubble walls — mixed with Norman carved masonry — remain above ground.

St Mary’s once served the harbour village of Bulverhythe, then a limb of the Cinque Ports. Over centuries, coastal erosion, storms, and shifting trade led to its decline. By the 17th century most of the harbour settlement had vanished, leaving the chapel and the Bull Inn as isolated reminders.

A Survivor Among Houses

In the 20th century, housing estates grew up around the site as St Leonards expanded. Most of the homes date from the 1930s to 1960s, yet the chapel fragment was left standing. It’s remarkable that it wasn’t cleared away, since other remains nearby were built over completely.

Look closely at the Bull Inn on the corner and you’ll even see some of the chapel’s original stonework reused in its walls — a practice seen throughout English history, from the Roman city of Verulamium being quarried for medieval St Albans, to local villagers “robbing out” abandoned ruins for new buildings.

Why It Matters

St Mary’s is now a Grade II listed monument, consolidated in the 1980s to prevent further decay. It stands as a rare reminder of Hastings’ medieval past — a fragment of a lost harbour town, marooned in the middle of a modern suburb.

It raises bigger questions too: how many villages and chapels have vanished entirely? The Domesday Book of 1086 gives us the first nationwide survey, but thousands of settlements have since disappeared. Over 3,000 “deserted medieval villages” are known across England, with many more lost without record. St Mary’s is a rare survivor that reminds us how fragile communities once were.

Practical Info

  • Location: Off Bulverhythe Road, St Leonards, Hastings, East Sussex
  • Access: Open site, free to visit. Ruins sit within a small plot of grass amid houses.
  • Best time to visit: Daylight hours — the low sun can bring out the textures in the flint and stone.
  • Nearby: The Bull Inn (look for reused stones), Hastings Beach, Bexhill Beach, St Leonards Seafront.

For more Sussex ruins and hidden corners, see posts on Camber Castle, Winchelsea Gates, and Exceat Hill.

Closing Thoughts

St Mary’s Chapel is easy to overlook, but that’s what makes it powerful. A ruin hemmed in by ordinary houses, whispering of a harbour town long since claimed by the sea. Not every fragment of the past gets swept away — some survive in the strangest of places.

August, East Sussex, England, Hastings, Natural History, Reels and Shorts, South East, Summer, UK, Videography

Covehurst Bay – Sussex’s Wildest Hidden Beach

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Introduction

Tucked away beneath the towering cliffs of Hastings Country Park, Covehurst Bay is one of the most remote and dramatic beaches in East Sussex. With no facilities, no phone signal, and only steep footpaths for access, it feels like a world apart. At low tide, the sea pulls back to reveal wide stretches of sand and rock, creating a raw coastal landscape that’s unlike anywhere else along the Sussex coast.

Here’s a short reel to give you a glimpse of the bay:

For location details, check it out here on Google Maps, or see it in my collection of All Map Locations.

Wild and Untouched

Covehurst Bay is part of Wild Hastings — a rugged coastline where nature is left largely to itself. At low tide the golden sands stretch between slippery rocks and jagged ledges, with the red sandstone cliffs rising steeply behind. The place feels almost Martian in parts, with giant boulders scattered across the beach and no signs of human development in sight.

Fossils and Geology

The cliffs here are millions of years old, formed from sandstone and shale layers that have yielded fossil plants and even dinosaur footprints. But finding them without precise knowledge is like searching for a needle in a haystack. For most visitors, it’s the sheer drama of the cliffs and the shapes in the rocks that leave the strongest impression.

Wildlife and Seals

This secluded bay has become a quiet haven for wildlife. Grey seals are sometimes spotted hauling out on the sands at low tide, basking just offshore, or bobbing curiously in the waves.

The remoteness of the location makes it one of the few places along the Sussex coast where seals can rest undisturbed.

An Unofficial Nudist Beach

Since the 1970s, Covehurst Bay has also been known as an unofficial naturist beach. Its isolation and steep paths keep visitor numbers low, and those who do make the trek often value the sense of freedom and privacy the bay provides.

Practical Info

  • Location: Covehurst Bay, beneath Hastings Country Park, East Sussex
  • Access: Steep woodland footpaths from Fairlight Road; best visited at low tide for sand access
  • Best Time to Visit: Summer months during calm conditions and low tide; sunsets on clear days are spectacular
  • Nearby: Hastings Country Park, Fairlight Glen, Ecclesbourne Glen, Rock-a-Nore in Hastings Old Town, Hastings Pier Beach, Cliff End Pett Level.

August, East Sussex, England, High Weald, History, landscape photography, Memorials, photography, Reels and Shorts, South East, Summer, UK, Videography

The Airman’s Grave, Ashdown Forest

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Introduction

On the ridges of Ashdown Forest, surrounded by purple heather, lies one of the most poignant memorials in Sussex. The Airman’s Grave marks the spot where a Wellington bomber from RAF 142 Squadron crashed on 31 July 1941, killing all six crew. It is not a burial site, but a place of remembrance, created by the mother of one of the airmen and cared for ever since.

Here’s my short video from a late August evening, with the heather in full bloom:

The memorial sits in the heart of Ashdown Forest, a landscape famous for its open heath, forest walks, and connections to A. A. Milne’s Winnie-the-Pooh. But here, the beauty of the High Weald meets the weight of wartime history.

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The Story of the Airman’s Grave

In the early hours of 31 July 1941, a Vickers Wellington bomber from RAF Binbrook, flying with 142 Squadron, was returning from a raid on Cologne. The aircraft had engine trouble and was struggling in poor weather. At 04:56 GMT, it came down on the southern slopes of Ashdown Forest.

All six crew — Flight Sergeant Harry Vidler, Sergeant Vic Sutton, Sergeant Wilf Brooks, Flight Sergeant Ernest Cave, Sergeant Stan Hathaway, and Flight Sergeant Len Saunders — were killed. Their average age was just 24.

airmans grave ashdown forest sunset
airmans grave ashdown forest sunset high weald east sussex

Soon after, the mother of Sergeant Sutton placed a simple wooden cross at the site. Over the years, this grew into the stone memorial we see today, enclosed by a low wall and marked with a plaque naming each of the crew. It has become a place of quiet remembrance, still visited and honoured each year.

A Place of Contrast

Ashdown Forest is a place of beauty: open heath, purple heather, and wide skies. It was once a medieval hunting ground, later common land, and now a landscape of walks and views across the High Weald. Standing at the Airman’s Grave, with the colours of late summer all around, it’s hard to reconcile the peace of the forest with the violent end of that July morning in 1941.

It is precisely this contrast that makes the memorial so moving. The forest endures; the heather blooms again each year; but the story of those six young men remains tied to this spot.

Practical Info

  • Location: Ashdown Forest, East Sussex, England
  • Access: Reached on foot via forest paths — parking available at nearby car parks – Hollies. The memorial is well signposted.
  • Best Time to Visit: Late summer when the heather is in bloom, or November when poppies mark Remembrance Day.
  • Nearby: Winnie-the-Pooh locations, High Weald walks, Sussex WWII sites.

Final Thoughts

The Airman’s Grave is one of Sussex’s most touching memorials — not grand or imposing, but personal and enduring. It stands for the young men who flew from Lincolnshire that night and never returned, and for the countless others whose names are remembered across our landscape.

August, East Sussex, England, History, landscape photography, Memorials, photography, Reels and Shorts, South Downs, South East, UK, Videography

The Lost Village of Exceat – South Downs History

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Introduction

High on Exceat Hill above the Cuckmere Valley stands a simple memorial stone. It marks the site of a village long vanished, where only wind and grass remain. From here the views sweep south over the winding river, Cuckmere Haven, and the white cliffs of the Seven Sisters. At golden hour it feels timeless – a reminder of both beauty and loss.

To bring the story to life, I also made a short film about Exceat. It tells the tale of the village, its church, and how it vanished from the map.

The stone on Exceat Hill is all that remains, but walking here you can still imagine the village that once overlooked the Cuckmere.

Location

Exceat Hill lies within the South Downs National Park, East Sussex, just above the meandering Cuckmere River.

Memorial stone on Exceat Hill marking the site of the lost medieval village of Exceat, South Downs, East Sussex.
Exceat church stone memorial seven sisters country park south downs east Sussex south east England UK

The memorial stone sits along the walking routes that connect with the popular paths to Cuckmere Haven and the Seven Sisters cliffs. From this vantage point the entire valley opens up, making it one of the most evocative places in Sussex.

Explore on Google Maps: Exceat Hill – Memorial Stone
See all my map locations: Sussex Photography – Map Collection

History

Exceat is recorded in the Domesday Book of 1086. In medieval times it was a small settlement with a flint church at its heart and access to the sea via the river mouth at Cuckmere Haven. The fourteenth century brought disaster: famine, plague, and French coastal raids left the community shattered. By 1460 only two parishioners remained. The parish was absorbed into West Dean, the church crumbled, and the village was lost to time.
In 1913 an excavation uncovered the footprint of the church, and the memorial stone was set up to mark the site. Today it is all that survives.

My Visit

I came up here with the camera at golden hour. First to photograph the stone itself in the warm light of evening, then to turn my lens downriver to capture the Cuckmere as it curled through the valley toward the sea.

Golden hour view of the Cuckmere River winding through the valley in the South Downs, East Sussex.
The Cuckmere River at golden hour, curving gently through the valley towards the sea.

The light was soft, the cirrus clouds drifting, and the whole valley glowed. These are the moments that remind me why I love still photography as much as making reels – freezing a view that feels both ancient and alive.

Reflections

Standing by the memorial, it’s hard not to think of how fragile life once was. An entire community erased by forces beyond its control. And yet, looking out at the valley, it’s also a place of renewal – fields, river, and sky carrying on long after the village disappeared. Sharing these stories through photos and film feels important: the more people value these landscapes, the more likely they will be preserved.

Practical Info

  • Location: Exceat Hill, near Cuckmere Haven, South Downs National Park, East Sussex
  • Access: Footpaths from the Seven Sisters Country Park visitor centre and car park
  • Best time to visit: Golden hour for photography; clear days for sweeping views
  • Nearby: Seven Sisters cliffs, Cuckmere Haven beach, the village of Alfriston

Ancient Trees, August, East Sussex, England, High Weald, Natural History, Reels and Shorts, South East, Summer, UK, Videography

The Ancient Yew of Rotherfield – St Denys Church and 1,500 Years of History

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Branching Out: From Photography to Storytelling

For a long time Sussex Photography has been about capturing the landscape in the right light — waiting for the perfect sunrise, or finding a composition that does justice to the Downs, the Weald, or the coast. But I’ve realised there’s another layer to the places I visit. Beyond the natural beauty there are stories: human history, folklore, and heritage that make these places what they are.

So this marks the start of something new. Alongside photography and videography, I’ll be exploring the stories behind the landscape — not just the natural history of ancient trees and valleys, but also the human history of churches, castles, follies, and forgotten corners of Sussex. Videography allows me to weave these elements together: a reel can capture both the visual and the story.

And there’s no better place to begin than with one of the oldest living things in Sussex — the ancient yew tree at Rotherfield.

The Living Witness of Rotherfield

In the churchyard of St Denys at Rotherfield stands a yew tree believed to be at least 1,500 years old. Already ancient when the first wooden church was raised here in AD 792, the yew has lived through Saxon stonework around 1060 and Norman additions after 1066.

Hollow but Alive

The tree today is a striking sight — its heart long gone, leaving only a hollow shell. Yet the bark still lives, sending up branches skyward. Supported by props and chains, it remains a miracle of survival.

Sacred Roots

Like many churchyard yews, this one may have marked a pagan gathering site, later absorbed into Christian tradition. Yews became symbols of eternity, death, and rebirth — evergreen trees that could outlast dynasties, empires, and whole ways of life.

Why This Matters

The Rotherfield yew is more than a tree. It is a living archive of Sussex history — connecting natural history and human history, faith and folklore, past and present.

Watch the Story

You can also watch my short film about the Rotherfield yew here:

Plan Your Visit

You can find St Denys Church and its ancient yew tree on Google Maps. I’ve also added it to my Sussex Photo map of ancient trees here.

Closing Reflection

This is the first in a new series where I’ll be exploring not only the landscapes of Sussex, but also the stories that lie behind them. Ancient trees, forgotten churches, hidden follies — all the things that shape our connection to this place.

East Sussex, England, June, landscape photography, photography, South Downs, South East, Summer, Sussex, UK

June Landscape Photography Review 2025

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Light, Colour, and the Fight to Remember

June came in hot this year — sunshine from the first week, long golden evenings, and bold flashes of colour across the Sussex hills. The countryside felt alive and defiant, with poppy fields in full bloom and coastal ruins standing proud under summer skies. This month I focused on moments of stillness and motion — wind-blown wildflowers, early dawn reflections, and the shifting light over landscapes I’ve walked many times before. From Bodiam at first light to sunset above Kingston Ridge, June brought some of my favourite scenes of the year so far — and reminded me why these places matter.

Continue reading June Landscape Photography Review 2025 →
Battle, East Sussex, England, High Weald, landscape photography, May, photography, South East, Spring, Sussex, UK

May Landscape Photography Review 2025

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May 2025 – Sussex Landscape Photography

May has been a standout month — warm, mostly dry, and full of new life across the High Weald. I’ve spent most of the month exploring closer to home, mainly around Crowhurst and Brightling. From early misty mornings to late spring sunsets, it’s been a great chance to slow down, revisit old spots, and find new ones.

This review features a mix of stills and video from across the month — woodlands, buttercup fields, distant views to the South Downs, and a return to Jack Fuller’s follies. It’s all part of a new routine: monthly photography wrapped into one post, and now one video.

Continue reading May Landscape Photography Review 2025 →
April, East Sussex, England, High Weald, landscape photography, photography, South East, Spring, Sussex, UK

April Landscape Photography Review 2025

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April Awakens: Coastal Walks, Bluebell Woods, and Fields of Gold

April 2025 stirred the South East into life. From misty bluebell dawns in the High Weald to windswept beaches at Rye Harbour, the month was a patchwork of light, colour, and seasonal shift. I explored new paths and returned to familiar ones — chasing moonsets, scouting rapeseed fields, and tracking spring’s quiet arrival through garlic woods and river valleys. Here’s what I found, camera in hand.

Continue reading April Landscape Photography Review 2025 →
East Sussex, England, High Weald, Kent, landscape photography, March, photography, South East, Spring, Sussex, UK

March Landscape Photography Review 2025

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Mist, Mishaps, and Milestones: A March of Creative Growth

March delivered a rich mix of light, weather, and emotion across Sussex and Kent—a month where every outing felt like part of a bigger creative shift. From fog-drenched woodlands to glassy low tides, each trip brought its own challenges and rewards, deepening my approach to both photography and videography. I found myself not only chasing images but also refining my tools, learning new rhythms, and reconnecting with familiar landscapes through fresh eyes.

This review brings together a series of location shoots that marked real growth in how I document the outdoors—both in stills and on video. Whether it was the moody silence of Coblye Wood, the golden calm of Seaford sunsets, or the chaotic mishap that nearly cost me a camera, every experience had something to teach. Here’s the story of March—told in photos, footage, and field notes from the road.

Continue reading March Landscape Photography Review 2025 →