Fly past

Suddenly it's springy.

The crocuses have swiftly succeeded the snowdrops.

The daffodil cyclamineus, 

with its swept back petals in the background

emerging from last year's leaf litter.

Scotney Castle reflected in the still-watered moat

on one of those perfect windless days.

A robin auditioning for The Robin Who Showed the Way

in the Secret Garden.

The robin flew from his swinging spray of ivy on to the top of the wall

and he opened his beak and sang a loud, lovely trill,

merely to show off.

Nothing in the world is quite as adorable as a robin when

he shows off - and they are nearly always doing it.

The robin kept singing and twittering away and

tilting his head on one side,

as if he was as excited as she was.

The sun setting at nearly half past five.

The luxury of extended daylight

easing me out of hibernation.

And this weekend -

summer apparently!

Perhaps this sign spotted last weekend

was not so incongruous after all.

Spending Christmas

The tree -

pricey Fraser fir but it smells lovely and hasn't dropped any needles.

 Advent windows - small charge for a map.

Waldorf stars - this year with the right paper,

waxed translucent coloured squares all the way from San Diego.

Sunrise.

Sunset. 

Free gifts.

Sundowner

A very happy Bank Holiday weekend with fine weather

and a succession of visits from all the (male) members of the family.

Daughter-in-law and grandaughter on their way back from Edinburgh today.

Younger son returned to New York.

Weather cold and rainy.

Perhaps that was summer's last shout.

Floriferous frenzy

It's almost too much to take in, this headlong rush into summer.

Even waking at 5 and going in at 9,

there aren't enough hours to absorb all the changes.

Roses bloom and petals drop,

the foxglove spires elongate and fill with bees,

the clematis Wilsonii really does smell of chocolate,

but the honeysuckle is still scentless.Why?

Californian poppies shout for attention.

The white wisteria veil falls again across the Sisisinghurst walls,

a little respite.

A hammock is slung.

The occupant now bound once again for Japan.

Fly past

One of the things I can be relied upon to say,

as I struggle to find anything to like about

this time of year is,

At least the flies have gone.

But here is a sight to add to my glass half empty -

 a murmuration over marshes at dusk.

First they flew past us

in a continuous stream.

Then the line coalesced into an ovoid,

before swooping down to roost for the night.

This sequence took just 15 seconds.

We were so lucky to catch it as we drove past.

Light show

The sun will set at 311º northwest this evening at 9.22 pm.

That means that for a few short days

I get to take pictures

of my paperweights

on the bookshelf

in the darkest room in the house.

I am less inclined to find photo opportunities

at 4.43 am when the sun rises at 49º northeast.

Heather was up at 5 am and washing up.

Here's what she saw.

Getting there slowly

Sweet orange pastry for the mince pies -

Josceline Dimblebey's recipe every year.

Red cabbage and apple with sausages and mash.

Winter walks of course

even if we nearly forget to get out in time.

A winter surprise.

But it has been very warm.

Advent windows,

(one of them mine).

The tree at last despite a hissy fit with the lights.

A shining light on these darkling days.