Category Archives: National Parks

Old Roar Ghyll – The Forgotten Wilderness of Alexandra Park

Introduction

At the northern end of Hastings’ Alexandra Park lies a hidden valley once celebrated as a jewel of Victorian landscape design: Old Roar Ghyll. In the 1860s, when Robert Marnock laid out the park, the ghyll was meant to be its dramatic finale – a roaring sandstone waterfall, shaded woodland paths, rustic bridges and wild scenery just a short walk from town.

Today, the scene is very different.

Here’s a look at what I found on my recent visit:

Even now, you can trace the old walk through Little Roar Ghyll upstream to where the waterfall once roared. And yet, what was once a highlight of Hastings is now blocked by landslides, dried by drought, and hemmed in by housing estates.

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The Walk

I started at the upper entrance, only to be stopped straight away by barriers and a sign – another path closed due to landslip.

old roar gyhll path closed hastings
old roar gyhll path closed hastings

So I dropped into Little Roar Ghyll instead, which still runs through the shaded woodland. It’s probably looked after more by locals than the council.

Little Roar Gyhll Alexandra park Hastings
Little Roar Gyhll Alexandra park Hastings

With the stream almost dry, I followed the bed upstream, pushing through nettles and scrambling over fallen logs. Eventually I reached Old Roar Ghyll itself – the great sandstone cliff that once carried a waterfall so loud it gave the place its name. This time it was silent, the stream cut off or dried to nothing, the rocks scarred by fresh collapses.

Just beyond, a smaller, unnamed waterfall spills prettily down the valley side – perhaps the loveliest sight of the day. But even here, blockages of timber and more closed paths show how little maintenance is done.


Decline and Red Tape

Alexandra Park below is still neat, polished, and well-funded, but the wild ghylls at the top are being left to rot. Some argue this is nature reclaiming itself – and there’s truth in that – but from walking it, it feels more like abandonment.

Local people know why: these valleys sit within protected SSSI land, meaning any work involves endless surveys, health and safety paperwork, and permissions. Residents who’d happily clear paths and keep the place open run into 50-page forms and bureaucracy. Meanwhile, houses stand right on the unstable edges, blighted by landslips, their values falling.

We’re told there’s no money, no will, and no plan – yet billions are found for other projects elsewhere.

There used to be a streamside path leading up to Roar Gyhll with it being the prize spectacle. During the 70s due to development right up to the valley edge it began to subside and gradually got closed off now completely inaccessible. This is what happens when short sighted housing is prioritised over rare natural environments like this.


Why It Matters

Places like Old Roar Ghyll are more than neglected corners of a park. They’re part of our heritage and our wellbeing. Every child should have somewhere wild to roam close to home. Adults need green space for mental health, especially in towns. And in Hastings, these sandstone ghylls are rare landscapes found nowhere else in Sussex.

To let them collapse through short-sightedness and red tape is to lose a treasure forever.


Practical Info

  • Location: Northern end of Alexandra Park, Hastings, East Sussex.
  • Access: Little Roar Ghyll is still open, but Old Roar Ghyll itself is blocked by landslides and officially inaccessible.
  • Best Time to Visit: After rain, when the streams and falls are flowing – though check path closures before you go.
  • Nearby:

Lake Wood Uckfield – Sandstone Caves and Woodland Lake

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.

The Butts Brow Liberator Memorial – Ruth-Less 1944

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.

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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.

The Airman’s Grave, Ashdown Forest

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.

The Lost Village of Exceat – South Downs History

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.

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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

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

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.

June Landscape Photography Review 2025

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

May Landscape Photography Review 2025

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.

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April Landscape Photography Review 2025

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.

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March Landscape Photography Review 2025

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.

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February 2025 Landscape Photography Review

February 2025 was an exciting month of exploration and creative growth as I ventured through East Sussex, capturing stunning landscapes and experimenting with new techniques. From the serene morning light at Cliff End Beach to the foggy woodlands of Prinkle Wood, the month offered a mix of photographic opportunities that truly showcased the beauty of the season.

Alongside my photography, I also embraced videography with my new Samsung S24 Ultra, adding a fresh layer of creativity to my work. This review highlights my latest outdoor adventures, with a focus on capturing the natural world through both the lens and the camera.

Continue reading February 2025 Landscape Photography Review

January 2025 Landscape Photography Review

January 2025 began with some fantastic winter landscape photography across the South Downs, capturing the beauty of East Sussex in the crisp winter light. From chasing sunsets behind Belle Tout Lighthouse to photographing snow-covered views from Firle Beacon, the month was filled with stunning scenes. After mid-January, I took a short break from photography, but the early part of the month provided plenty of memorable moments. I’ll be back in February 2025 with more landscape photography adventures to share.

Continue reading January 2025 Landscape Photography Review