Finally I managed to catch up a bit last week where I had fallen behind. I carried out two excavations at the quarry which will probably be my last for now and made a start at Norton Common. The final few days at the quarry were fascinating. I have frequented this place so much now that it is becoming like my own personal playground. The usual anxiety about someone lurking within these hidden spaces has pretty much fallen away here and I notice that I am becoming more complacent in my alertness to the surroundings. Parts of this jungle is even starting to feel familiar to me. I have excavated numerous small sections throughout the quarry and as I walked around on my final day I notice that it is my own traces that are evident now. Trampled areas, cleaned and flattened, my preferred routes made more prominent. I wonder about people coming upon it post-excavation and whether the interference would be noticeable. I have had no sense that anyone has been to the quarry since I have been working here. It maybe the time of year but I wonder if this place is becoming more and more buried as time passes, concealed and forgotten as the undergrowth slowly yet steadily advances. I imagine every season claims another old pathway as the vegetation thickens and tangles a little more. I have heard that it use to be open and clear and children would come here to play and slide down its steep sides – they would have a job now. When I first dared to venture down into its belly, I felt a sense of impending doom about what I would find, who would be waiting there and how on earth I could escape. Its shadows are dark and its depths are rather deep, it is mostly impenetrable and quite unknowable but in it you can feel quite alone indeed. A treasured feeling when what you are expecting to feel is stalked.
So in sharp contrast to my comfy isolation at the quarry I am suddenly thrown into the busiest nature reserve in the centre of town. The result is quite unnerving. All the private contemplation, my eyes focused intently to the ground, is being replaced with the uneasy situation of being on public display. I can try to hide in the bushes as much as possible but two steps to the left and I’m waving to a lady out walking her two Cocker Spaniels. Maybe so much time in these edge places leaves me ill-equipped for working in a very public nature reserve. However, I know from evidence so far that this has provided a haven for someone who has found themselves on the edge, so I’ll have to persist.
This week I’ve also got a meeting at Letchworth Museum with Sian Woodward, the Museum Curator. I’m very much looking forward to this. They are currently in the process of relocating to a new museum and discussions are underway about what and how it will be organised and displayed. It is a great time to get an insight into this process and gain some understanding of the decisions that are being made with regard to how the finds and archaeological data are transferred and constructed into a meaningful narrative. With up to a million objects, this must be a task indeed! Keith has mentioned how as an archaeologist he is keen for as many objects to actually been seen as possible but with such an endless possibility of stuff and a comparatively minute amount of space and time to do it in, the majority will have to continue on their lives in boxes. Editor or storyteller is essentially how I understand it but it will be interesting to see where the conversation leads tomorrow and what light Sian can shed on the process.
