Kinson Common (http://www.kinson-common.co.uk/index.html) has had a place in my life for many years holding memories of a child, then a teen allowed out alone, as a parent and now as a dog walker.
‘The common’ has quite an interesting history. Kinson as a parish is much older than Bournemouth. Renown smuggler Isaac Gulliver had one of his homes in Kinson. Part of Gulliver’s Trail takes you through the common.
Two Bronze Age barrows are still intact. There are still gravel pits from the 1700’s. In the 1830’s the common was used for farming and boundaries are still visible. Pheasants were reared and shoots were held for the gentry (I would have been the kitchen maid who no doubt, would have to pluck it … ) and when it was a part of Canford Estate, pigs were reared and allotments let by Lord Wimborne. During WWII American troops played ball games where the now demolished swimming baths stood. My father was relocated to Kinson during WWII so I wonder if his family ever saw them playing their version of football.
Of course I knew nothing of this when as a young child with my mum we walked from our house to the common to collect blackberries (sometimes with other neighbours and their children too – it used to have quite an air of festivity!). I remember the staining of the juice (and slipping as many in my mouth as a could before it was noticed) but most of all I remember the ladybirds.
There doesn’t seem to be as many around now as back then …
As a teen let loose, along with the other children from my street, the common used to be a fabulous place to play during daylight hours. With two streams (amazing to think that these two streams used to be the main source of water for locals) for not only paddling in but also for jumping across from bank to bank, plenty of space for hiding or if you wanted to have a heart to heart with a mate away from prying eyes and ears that could hear anything (parents mostly!). We used to have a rope tied to one of the old oaks and children/young people still do that today.
As a parent, the common held lots of amazing things for my boys when they used their imaginations to create their own worlds. The memory that stands out for me though is of riding through on our bikes and my front wheel hitting a tree root with me ending up cartwheeling into brambles. Limping home I felt really sorry for myself but it was getting out the barbs and the sting that really made me feel stupid later!
There’s a sense of peace and tranquility no matter the time of year. Taz loves it here (squirrels! and having a dip in the stream).
Old oaks
The common has been adapted for cattle and we have seen a couple of cows grazing up on the higher ground (taken in January).
Tits nesting (taken June).
There’s plenty of flora and fauna to take in throughout the seasons. I wonder what our ancestors think of our lives today?