gull – derrickjknight

Swollen Pools

Today’s brighter and dry morning greyed over during our afternoon forest drive, as the rain set in again.

Swans and gulls took advantage of the swollen pond on Hatchet Moor. The last two swans and the gull in this gallery are Jackie’s work.

Coots foraged on the bank.

Mallards occupied this reflecting pool at East Boldre. The last of this set is Jackie’s.

She also produced these images of the reflected lichen covered branch and last year’s blackberries, while I focussed on

ponies among burnt bracken.

This evening we all dined on Jackie’s penne Bolognaise sprinkled with Parmesan cheese; she drank more of the Malvasia and I finished the Shiraz.

Three Ponies For A Pound

After lunch today, with, as usual, SueW’s help, I recovered the pictures to the following posts:

Garden News

Trimmed Tails

Prey To Spiders

This afternoon Jackie and I took a forest drive.

When I photographed these grasses in and the log teepee beside a section of Hatchet Pond that I had often photographed before I had not realised that I was about to learn that this was known as Little Hatchet.

Approaching a larger area of the lake I noticed sky borne evidence that a woman was tossing food for gulls

and a pair of swans who she told me were Norman and Nancy, who normally had their home in Little Hatchet, where Flo and I had photographed them with their cygnets on 27th May.

Each year they chased the other Cygnus family away from this section, where I had photographed them before Christmas, and took possession of the spot in case they would like to move home.

We drove on to Furzey Lane where Jackie noticed, and photographed, that the thatcher’s donkey on a rooftop had provided even more material for nesting birds.

She also focused on the landscape into which the avians had probably carried their stolen straw.

Nearby stands the Furzey Lodge Pound, which we have never before seen occupied.

Today there were three residents.

This evening we all dined on perfect pork chops with mustard sauce and almond topping; sautéed new potatoes and leeks; roast sweet potatoes and mushrooms; crunchy carrots, and tender green beans, with tasty gravy. I drank more of Gran Selone and no-one else did.

Devastation And Dessert

Winds of up to 60 m.p.h. howled and heavy rain lashed throughout the night.

Regular readers will know that Jackie’s favourite view is straight down the garden from the stable door.

This is what it looks like this morning through the window in that door.

The wisteria arbour has been destroyed.

We did not investigate further in the garden. Instead we drove to Milford on Sea to look at it.

A bent branch hung down over Downton Lane. The Modus was just able to clear it.

The rain had desisted by 10 a.m. when fierce winds whisked curdling waves sent spray smashing into rocks, breakwaters, and the sea wall over which rapidly liquified spume droplets swelled a saturated shingle lake.

Gulls enjoyed floating on the thermals in the warm air currents.

When I last visited this spot a week or so ago a cleft in this cliff had not been quite so rent.

Later this afternoon Elizabeth visited to help me with the on-line Probate application. My sister is very tech-savvy, but even she came to an insurmountable block, so we gave up and had dinner which consisted of succulent roast lamb; crisp roast potatoes and Yorkshire pudding; crunchy carrots and cauliflower; tender green beans; mint sauce, and thick, meaty, gravy, with which Elizabeth finished the Comté Tolosan Rouge; Jackie drank Hoegaarden; and I drank Montaria red wine 2020.

Dessert was Jackie’s spicy pumpkin pie which she photographed after we had eaten half of it.

A Visible Contrast

The Needles foghorn beckoned us all the way to the coast at Barton on Sea this morning. All other sounds were muffled by clouds of tiny water droplets known as mist.

We took the route through Angel Lane where Jackie parked the Modus and I photographed

misty scenes

and more visible views of the banks of the ditch.

The silhouettes of the few dog walkers on the clifftop at Barton could not have contrasted more with the many enjoying yesterday afternoon’s sunset.

After visiting the pharmacy at Milford on Sea we progressed to Keyhaven harbour where there was not much to be seen:

Bob Barnes reflected in the first picture, a fisherman, gulls, swans, and a few boats.

Later, I was able to photograph Bob and his reflection once more as we engaged in a socially distanced conversation beside

a memorial bench to Peter and Dorothy Thomas. Our discussion was recorded by Jackie, who also photographed

walkers on the spit, the yacht club, a bird on a wire, and a pair of preening mallards.

Another dog walker approached Pennington Lane as we passed on our way to

Boldre’s Saint John the Baptist Churchyard on Church Lane.

Field horses grazed beneath the graveyard, where, above the soil, a mossy, decomposing stump gradually merged with the soil beneath which humans from days gone by engaged in the same process.

This evening we dined on toothsome roast gammon; golden creamy mashed potatoes; pure white cauliflower; and most moist ratatouille, with which Jackie drank Hoegaarden and I drank Recital 2018.

Double Yellow Lines

Steady, light, rain seeped from slate skies throughout the day.

This morning Jackie worked in the greenhouse while I ironed, read, and photographed raindrops on

our unidentified peach rose,

wallflower Sugar Rush Purple,

and a tiny primula.

This afternoon Jackie drove us to Keyhaven.

You may be forgiven for thinking that this is a picture of yachts moored in the harbour. In fact it is a photograph of Hurst Castle in the mist beyond them.

Here are a few more boats and buoys;

a silhouetted walker rounding the sea wall;

and some mizzled (it’s a Cornish word, WP) landscapes.

Saltgrass Lane is normally closed when flooded. Today ducks swam on the waterlogged flats;

a murky gull flew overhead;

another hazy walker could be glimpsed on the spit; and other waterfowl extended their search onto the shallow spate.

Intrepid turnstones contemplated shifting these boundary boulders,

and investigated the possibility of lifting the saturated tarmac.

A solitary swan swam along the cambered verge,

occasionally pausing to slake its thirst.

Note the double yellow lines indicating that parking in this road is forbidden at all times. Swans have diplomatic immunity.

This evening we dined on smoked haddock fillets; cod fishcakes in parsley sauce; piquant cauliflower cheese; Dauphinoise potatoes and a splash of colour from orange carrots and green runner beans. Jackie drank Hoegaarden and I drank Breede River Valley Pinotage 2017.

Two For Joy

This afternoon we collected repeat prescriptions from the Pharmacy at Milford on Sea.

The Needles and their lighthouse had transmogrified into a red-eyed sea monster.

As equally calm as the Solent was the surface of Hatchet Pond with its skimming waterfowl and shimmering landscape.

While a photographer peered into the sun a friendly gull stood guard on a disabled parking space.

This was useful because the waters of the lake had encroached on the overspill car park, and partially iced over providing looking glasses for the surrounding trees.

A pair of magpies – two for joy – and a nippy little wagtail foraged on the banks.

One chestnut pony at East Boldre cropped the verge while another mowed the lawn beside a stretch of winterbourne water.

Today’s sign of post-operative progress was being able to dine at the table where Jackie served a sweetly savoury sausage casserole containing pork chipolatas and larger varieties with caramelised onion. Also on the menu was creamy swede and potato mash; crunchy carrots and cauliflower; and curly kale.

Speech Bubbles Are Invited

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I trust my readers in the Philippines and the East Coast of America will forgive Jackie and me for choosing to visit the coast on a morning beset by winds of a mere 40 m.p.h.

Palms swayed in the wind at Milford on Sea; granite skies glowered over choppy waves; the Isle of Wight, The Needles, and the lighthouse were lent a translucent quality by the feeble, filtered, daylight and the misty sea-spray crashing on the rocks.

Runner Runner approaching walkers Runner Runner

An unperturbed young lady ran along the coastal paths at a respectable rate;

four hardy sailors clung to stays on one side of a red-sailed yacht in efforts to keep the mast upright as it skirted the Isle of Wight, The Needles, and the lighthouse.

I think this was an egret fishing at Keyhaven,

while a preening gull perched on a heap of seaweed.

Two gentlemen passed stacks of colourful boats in the sailing club yard.

Readers are invited to suggest speech bubbles for these two.

In the field opposite Solent Grange stands a large haystack that defied the wind.

This evening we dined on Jackie’s luscious beef pie; creamy mashed potato; and crunchy carrots, cauliflower and cabbage. The Culinary Queen drank Hoegaarden; Elizabeth, Patrick Chodot’s Fleurie 2016, and I finished the same producer’s Brouilly.

This Later Season

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This morning I learned that my PSA result was clear – no action required. It is an interesting phenomenon that this is one situation in which no news is good news. The GP only contacts the patient if there is a problem. Otherwise the patient has to make the call.

This afternoon Jackie drove me to Sears Barbers for Peter to cut my hair. Afterwards we visited Tanners Lane,

where a few others were having fun. Two women, children, and a Labrador collected shells; a young man walked his dog; two people rowed a canoe.

A gull atop a post ignored the swirling eddies where currents clashed in the otherwise calm waters.

En route to this site we had noticed a glimpse of the view across to the Isle of Wight from Shotts Lane. The second picture reveals the Isle of Wight ferry and smoke from a fire on the island. The cattle in the third image conveniently wandered into shot.

In order to remove the five barred gate from the scene I needed to scale it a bit, then climb down again.

Pheasants in Sowley Lane, no longer dressed in their mating finery, reflected this later season by picking at stubble in a ploughed field. Others sought the shelter of the Becks Farm drive.

Exercising Choices

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I undertook some minimal tidying in the garden this morning. Here are a few photographs of how it looks at the moment:

Many more daffodils are in bloom, including those in tubs and window boxes,

and those in beds like the Weeping Birch one

which also has its share of hellebores.

Raindrops settled still on such as these primulas that survived the snow.

We have many blooming camellias. The shady path is bordered by them.

It could be considered mandatory that a tour of our area should include Big Breakfasts at The Beach Hut Café on

Friar’s Cliff Promenade.

So it was today. Jackie brunched on the marginally more moderate Friar’s Breakfast while Flo, Dillon, and I all went for the Big one.

A number of people were out exercising their dogs;

others walked, jogged, or cycled.

Efforts at promoting fitness in Mudeford, for these two jet-skiers at least, were rather more strenuous.

Others basked in the sunshine or floated on the wing.

The usual fishing paraphernalia lay in tidy heaps on the quay.

Flags flapped in fortuitously reflective surfaces.

Our last visit was to Highcliffe Castle around which the young people wandered while I peered down the steps to the beach. This set has replaced the zig-zag sloping route used on 6th January 2016, now considered unsafe.

For our dinner the evening, Jackie produced her piquant cauliflower cheese with smoked haddock fish cakes and runner beans. Small portions were in order after our brunch. Flo’s favourite pudding, that gets her all of a quiver, is Grannie’s rice pudding with squirty cream. Naturally, this was served today. I finished the Navarra, and the young couple drank different soft drinks.

Knobbly Knees

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If you have no choice but to resort to vast shopping outlets, Bournemouth’s Castlepoint is far more user friendly than most. This is where we drove today for Jackie’s outfit for her niece Rachel’s wedding to Gareth in a few days’ time.