spaniels – derrickjknight

The Beachcomber

I began dead-heading roses this morning.

This afternoon Jackie drove us to Barton on Sea via Milford on Sea. We stopped off at Milford for Sheila to buy a stamp for New Zealand and maybe some wool from the shop that was also a Post Office. The Post Office had been permanently closed a fortnight ago and the wool shop was closed for lunch.

We had more success at Barton, because the Beachcomber Café was fully open for business, and we spent a pleasant time in their garden overlooking the sea.

The gate in a low fence at one end of the plot is now nailed up. This prevents wanderers venturing past the valerian and irises and dropping off the end of the crumbling cliff;

something I all but did, not realising the sward would so abruptly disappear, the first time I photographed the paragliders who were out in force today.

I had been so engrossed in striding across the grass to get near the gliders that I almost walked off the edge. The cyclist in this picture has his black labrador running alongside him.

Today the fliers floated past the café.

This one was joined by birds in the air and by a plane high above them.

The dog-friendly café caters for people of all ages; children in buggies; older people in wheelchairs, with walking aids, and post-operative crutches.

The usual avian hordes scavenging for scraps included an imperious gull,

ravenous starlings,

and spritely sparrows.

The cake on the grass was tossed there by one of the customers. Jackie picked it up and placed it on the plate to encourage a photo opportunity. The last of the starlings was, we think, a juvenile. Perhaps that is why it was content to attempt to feed off an empty plate.

Our plates this evening were far from empty. They contained Jackie’s superb sausage casserole, creamy mashed potatoes, and crisp carrots, cauliflower, and runner beans, followed by sponge cake or rice pudding or both. She drank Hoegaarden, I drank Gilbert and Gaillard Chateauneuf du Pape 2014, and Sheila drank sparkling water.

The Golden Touch

On the way through the garden this morning, to continue working on the back drive, I paused to admire Jackie’s two new planters, originally candle-holders from Redcliffe Nursery. They display her usual flair. Turning into the drive, I encountered the trail made by a mole. As this stopped at the site of the bonfire, perhaps last night’s embers were still warm enough to deter it from popping its head out.

Jackie soon joined me and she made good progress pruning the conifers along the side of the fence between us and 5 Downton Lane.

Hampered by wire netting through which grew thick brambles and anumber of trees, I, however, taking the whole morning, covered about two yards. Three hours and a couple of feet separate these two photographs. After that we stopped for lunch.

A little further down, some fine hardy fuchsias form a splendid hedge. They blend well with the blackberries, which we are picking as we go along. Butterflies are enjoying our long summer.

A Red Admiral seemed particularly partial to the blackberries, while the broad shiny leaves of trees we cannot identify bore a Comma and a Speckled Wood.
For variety, I took the longer Downton Lane/coast road route to the shingle beneath Hordle cliff, and returned via Shorefield.

A jelly babies wrapper, linaria vulgaris, lichen, and dandelions, one of which attracted a small cricket, lent golden touches to the hedgerows.

Variations on this hue were provided by rust stains running down from the iron hinge of a beach hut, and by

the tennis ball being held up by a gentleman encouraging four spaniels to pose for their photograph.

It was a day for spaniels, one of whom frolicked with a group of four young women.
This evening we dined at Daniel’s in Highcliffe. We each enjoyed haddock and chips, mushy peas, and onion rings. I drank tea, and Jackie drank coffee.