Wednesday 26 July 2017
Saturday 22 July 2017
Light and shade (and a short rant)
Where it is acceptable -
the flaking paint on this walled garden door at Nostell Priory
And where it is not -
the flaking, chipped, blistered, rusting paint job in the bath
at our Airbnb.
Tuesday 18 July 2017
The Favourite Walk revisited
This was the view for a worryingly long time,
squashed into a hedgerow, wing mirror folded and holding in our stomachs
as caravans and 4x4s inched down a lane
wholly inadequate for the traffic, which had been diverted by a field fire.
'Go on, you could get a bus through there,'
was the helpful advice yelled from the car in front to each anxious
new driver as they advanced towards us grimacing.
'I only came out for a pie and a pint,' was the cheery and more typical
reaction from one man as he made it past us.
A huge sigh of relief went up as we saw the motorhome ahead of us
accelerate away in a wider stretch.
The wide rolling hills of the South Downs as they hoved into view
were never more welcome.
I've checked back, and it seems to be six years since we last did this walk,
or perhaps I didn't record it here.
or perhaps I didn't record it here.
The V-shaped view to the sea
opens just as satisfactorily as it ever did,
and the view to the Seven Sisters seems little changed,
but for the fact that there were two large cliff falls
further along at Birling Gap recently.
Two military planes briefly shattered the peace.
It was still a lovely walk but something vital was missing.
It was the company of our sons.
Saturday 15 July 2017
A walk on the wild side
This shrew - not alive sadly - but still looking pretty perky.
Like the mole I found last year.
I swear this hen was posing.
It froze until it heard the shutter click.
Human being herded by hens.
Bees love drumstick alliums.
I took out a huge dogwood which revealed the weedy mess
that the site of an old pond had become behind it.
One thing led to another and we found we had cleared a corner without
a real plan, so we plonked down six bags of woodbark on weed suppressing membrane,
(two trips to the garden centre because one always underestimates)
and a few large logs from the cedar cut down two years ago
and lo! all the disposessed frogs came hopping out.
This one hopped onto my bare foot which was a cold and clammy surprise,
but no more than I deserved for taking away its ancestral home.
This Red Admiral has taken to basking each evening during the last minutes
before the sun goes behind a tall tree and rapidly plunges the garden into shadow.
Sunday 2 July 2017
Doors and windows
I'd like to say something profound about
all the doors and windows opening ahead for this busy bee
but as we've just handed her back fed, watered, and in one piece after
a weekend staying with us while her parents went to a wedding in Cornwall
I may have to come back to you on that one.
Labels:
architecture,
art,
childhood,
family,
landscape,
stained glass,
tidying up,
William Morris
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