Spectral Ponies

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This morning we brunched in a very crowded Otter Nurseries restaurant before driving to Emery Down, Bolderwood, and back home.

Thatched house

As with many New Forest villages, the approach to Emery Down from Swan Green is quintessentially English.

Thatched house

We have a row of tiny thatched cottages in which I could not stand upright, and a larger thatched house, opposite the green

Emery Down approach

flanking the uphill stretch of an undulating road, one of the warning signs of which bears the image of a pony. Level with the gate in this picture is a cattle grid. Both gate and grid are designed to keep those ponies on the far side.

Thatched house garden

The garden of the house benefits from our Indian summer;

no self-respecting one in this area, except, that is, for ours, is without its bank of nerines,

Roses and nerines

not all accompanied by pink shrub roses.

Turning left in Emery Down the forest road goes through Bolderwood. On its verges Jackie parked with her puzzle book whilst I wandered among the trees,

the leaves of which were beginning to turn rich gold and deep red.

Mushroom

This is also the season for mushrooms to force their way through the forest floor.

Throughout the woods can be seen shattered trunks and hollowed sawn logs from fallen trees.

At Bolderwood silent spectral ponies emerged from the shadows to graze their way across to the greener grass on the other side.

Sunlight played on the road on our return.

This evening we dined on spicy pizza and salad, followed by profiterols. I drank Basson shiraz 2014.

53 thoughts on “Spectral Ponies

  1. the Swan green cricket pitch was two tiered and the lower tier always seemed to be boggy. If the ball left the square towards the lower level you had to chase after it because you could be pretty sure it would plug as would you as the fielder. Forest cricket pitches were the oddest,

      • I never saw you as out of control but I can imagine you steaming downhill arms flailing hair set to stun – you would have been a terrifying sight

      • Only once did I opt for the downhill slope. It was during the annual single wicket competition (which I won). I had been given out caught behind for 1 – the umpire acknowledged that he knew I hadn’t hit it but wanted to even things up. It was then poor old Charlie Moilder’s turn to bat. Your description held good, except for the genuine rage on my face. I knocked out two stumps with the first ball. Jackie was so ashamed of me.

  2. Lovely, Derrick! And if you added more evergreens, then you would get something approaching the Maine countryside πŸ˜‰

  3. I am contemplating quitting my warehouse job and finding a typical hours job. Another busy 50 hour week, which allows flying through blogs and saying one word comments or waiting until I can submerge into reading and enjoying. I am catching up by taking my time while Micah watches cartoons. Still 8:30 to 9:00 am here to read what I missed.
    My love for England and Scotland is from my Dad’s side of the family, half of each one. So I am 1/4 English, I would love to see these winding roads and lanes, the thatched roof cottages and elegant castles.
    Jenny Pellett entices me with her British city talk and museums. . .
    This was a peaceful, pretty photographs filled post, Derrick! Those ethereal final pictures were magical!

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