Not Upside Down

Although less severe, today’s weather was as changeable as that of yesterday.

This morning we drove to Milford on Sea for a repeat prescription. There were more people on the road than there has been of late.

The car parks along the coast were still locked and empty but for this cyclist,

and a couple walking past.

The Needles Eye café has been closed since lockdown began. The louring skies did not deter a number of other pedestrians. The tall straggly cordeline to the right of the picture was receiving its customary battering from the blustery winds

sending wintry waves buffeting breakwaters and sending grating gravel skidding and sliding

along the coastline.

Milky spray churned into vast vats of the latte that is not currently available in the resort’s normal outlets.

Unperturbed by the constantly changing clouds

gulls frolicked silently overhead.

I became engaged in conversation with this couple walking their dogs. The woman helpfully told me how to recover from knee replacements.  She had warmed up enough, despite the cool winds, to wrap her heavy coat around her waist.

As I returned to the Modus another couple left their car and followed their dog to the promenade.

Pale purple thrift and bright yellow buttercups carpet the banks of Park Lane and

drape the crumbling cliffs,

clinging to the edge of which rooks on recce perch for a while

before taking flight

or wandering purposefully among the grasses.

Given that we were out anyway we took a short diversion up to Wootton in search of a pony or two.

A small group wandering along the road turned

to converse with another in a field.

No doubt following the loner’s directions they made their way individually to the other side.

The grey lagged behind a bit.

One cyclist followed the bend at the junction

where another pair paused for a break.

On of the field horses seen on the hill sports a protective mask. This does not indicate that its owner has placed one for coronavirus upside down. It is to protect eyes and ears from invasive flies.

This evening we dined on choice roast chicken thighs; crisp roast potatoes, one type being sweet; plain boiled potatoes; crunchy carrots; tender green beans; a rich red cabbage, with meaty gravy. Jackie drank Heineken and, apart from the quantity I sloshed on my white linen shirt, I drank more of the red Cotes du Rhone.

70 comments

  1. A suitable ‘moody’ variety of photographs which reflect the underlying feelings of anxiety and uncertainty along with a little rebelliousness against what has happened to our world – wherever we may be. I enjoy looking at your seascapes and simply love your descriptions! Words are there to play with and this is a game you know so well.

  2. I am left wondering about the quality and quantity of the knee recovery advice…….. The bird in flight photos are wonderful. Your hands are clearly still steady!

    1. Thanks very much, Pauline. I have a body of two halves 🙂 If I tell you that the lady was younger than me, had her surgery 11 years ago and hadn’t quite got the idea that different people have different experiences would that paint the picture?

  3. Your weather looks like ours was today…definitely too cold for my liking. I always loved the buttercups. Your photo reminded me of when I was a little girl. My best friend and I would hold the buttercup under our chins to see if we liked butter. 🙂 Your chin would turn yellow if you did.

  4. Fabulous photos and delightful, descriptive prose. The remark about the latte made me laugh.
    I love the waves, but I particularly like the rook perching and then taking off in flight.
    I hope you can get the red wine stain out of your shirt!

  5. All spectacular photos! 🙂 Especially love the clouds, waves, and gulls!!! Nature is busy…and beautiful! 🙂
    Your descriptive words always make me smile! You have a way with words, Good Sir! 🙂
    Poor horsey…bugs (fleas, flies, etc) and bugs (illnesses, viruses, etc.) sometimes rule the world. 🙁
    Maybe the gray lagger is The Old Gray Mare… “she ain’t what she used to be”. 🙂 (Have you heard that song?!?!)
    I bet Jackie will be able to get your shirt clean! 🙂
    HUGS!!! 🙂

    1. Not only have I heard that song, but Mum, like me was prematurely grey, so when we began learning French at school she became “The old grey Mere”. Jackie did get the shirt perfectly clean. Thanks very much, Carolyn. X

  6. What a treat to see flowers near the ocean! It was nice to see the ponies again, too. I’m glad you got to get out and enjoy the day.

  7. The powerful description of winds and waves complete with vivid images sets the mood for an exciting opening of a graphic novel. But I know you’d return to the quite of your home after the sojourn.

  8. I can almost smell the brine and if I close my eyes I can imagine I’m petting the ponies…I can smell those too! 🙂

  9. Thank you for going to look for the ponies! They don’t seem to mind the quarantine – eh?! haha
    So what was that woman’s suggestion for your knees?

  10. I could smell the ocean in the spray of those waves. I cannot for the life of me get thrift to grow in my sandy patch in the front garden and there it is rampant on the coast of England. Buds are finally appearing on our trees in Ottawa – little burps of green on the tips of branches. About time!

  11. As we ratchet up into the 100’s now in Arizona, for quite some months to come, it is such a lovely escape to scroll through your beautiful land and seascapes, Derrick and to read your accompanying missives. Reminds us all to slow down and take in the beauty around us, no matter where we may be. The gulls, spectacular! And I loved the ponies too. Such a treat, will browse through again today, I’m sure. Greetings to you and Jackie from Susan in Arizona

  12. Thank you so much for the photos of the thrift, Derrick! It is one of my most favourite flowers and I love to see it on cliff-tops and grassland next to the sea. I grow it at home in the garden but it isn’t the same as seeing it in the wild.

  13. Love the wildflowers on the beach. Those are wild waves. Thank you for taking us to the shore with you. Montana is landlocked. I miss the chance to hear the ocean and see the tides coming in and going out. Your vicarious vissit for us was wonderful! <3

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