Tag: alpacas

Avian Backing Notes

We were out early enough in the forest this morning to be held up by children being delivered to schools.

Against the soundtrack of a distant cuckoo’s call ponies breakfasted on the moorland alongside Holmsley Passage, further along which

lay a foal alongside its dam, until I approached too close for comfort, sending it to seek security from her flanks and source of nourishment.

More ponies, still shaggy in winter coats, were gathering on the green at N. Gorley, where a local resident gathered fresh manure with bucket and spade. Here the avian backing notes were provided by the cawing of vociferous rooks.

Jackie photographed a herd of deer lounging beneath trees at Gorley Common. They can be seen roughly central in the first picture.

En route to Ogden’s North her next subject was a rabbit seemingly paralysed at the roadside. She produced the next two in this gallery

while I photographed the rippling stream, its shallow bed, and its clear reflections.

It was the crowing of roosters that rent the air at Hockey’s Farm Shop

where Jackie photographed some shaggy alpacas.

This afternoon I added a lengthy P.S. to https://derrickjknight.com/2021/09/21/a-knights-tale-36-some-schoolmasters/ consisting of further memories of Wimbledon College teachers e-mailed to me by Keith Prince, who joined the school two years after me.

This evening we dined on tasty haddock fish cakes; piquant cauliflower cheese; creamy mashed potato and crunchy carrots, with which I drank more of the Merlot.

Passport Photographs

At midday Jackie drove us to Hockey’s Farm shop for an excellent brunch and to reintroduce Flo to the north of the forest.

Ponies at Ibsley and mossy rooted trees were reflected in the pool that covers waterlogged terrain.

Before eating we introduced our granddaughter to Hockey’s humorous alpacas lining up for their passport photographs and to

their colourful penned chickens.

Afterwards the two women wandered over to the exotic aviary while I waited in the car.

The thatched fox opposite the farm shop has come no nearer to catching the ducks he has in his sights.

Ponies on the road towards Gorley Common ensured our slow progress,

giving us the opportunity to track a small herd of deer from different viewpoints. At least three young males were present, and one pure white one was occasionally glimpsed.

The thatcher of a house in North Gorley celebrated his last year’s refurbishment with champagne while donkeys lolled or scratched further along the road.

This evening we enjoyed dining on alcohol free Red Chilli takeaway fare.

A Tryst

Today I scanned Charles Keeping’s next seven illustrations to ‘The Old Curiosity Shop’ by Charles Dickens.

‘ ‘Go, sir,’ returned Dick, leaning against a post and waving his hand’. He is quite clearly drunk.

‘The boy threw his wasted arms around the schoolmaster’s neck’ is a typically tender scene.

‘They drew up there for the night, near to another caravan’

‘The game commenced’ leaves us in no doubt that these are three rogues and the un-pictured gentleman facing them will lose his money.

‘One young lady sprung forward and put the handkerchief in her hand’ pictures a rare act of kindness.

‘Miss Brass went scratching on, working like a steam engine’

‘ ‘Hallo there! Hallo, hallo!’ ‘ faithfully depicts the author’s description of a scene in which two characters are now clearly recognisable.

This afternoon we drove to Everton Garden Centre the where we purchased a garden water feature which we hope to set up tomorrow, and continued with a short trip to the east of Lymington.

We stopped at Saint John the Baptist Boldre Parish Church, in order to photograph

the clusters of daffodils on the bank and around the grounds. The first two of these images are mine; the rest Jackie’s.

While I was wandering around the side my Assistant Photographer featured in her third picture,

a horse, protected against our currently cold nights by a rug, trotted over to the fence between the field and the church. I thought perhaps it was interested in me.

No such luck. I had noticed a gentleman take up a seat in the churchyard. His equine friend had found a way to get to the church fence where her gentleman friend was waiting to continue the conversation that ensued. It was clearly a regular occurrence.

I comforted myself over the rejection by communing with a bay pony on the verge further along the road.

My next conversation was with a family of donkeys;

then alpacas at East End where stands

one of the three mimosa trees was saw blooming today, and numerous gnarled oaks awaiting their own plumage;

a lone thatcher exercised his craft.

Variously coloured crocuses are bursting through the soil before the war memorial on South Baddersley Road.

Jackie’s final offering is a rook she photographed from Hightown Lane yesterday.

This evening we dined on Jackie’s savoury egg fried rice; tempura prawns; and a rack of pork ribs in barbecue sauce with which she drank Hoegaarden and I drank Coonawarra Cabernet Sauvignon 2020. This was followed by Bakewell tart and New Forest Rhubarb and Ginger ice cream.

All Too Fleeting

On a dank, overcast, yet warmer, morning, Jackie drove us to Ferndene Farm shop where her shopping ran so smoothly that it was only a four-page read in the car for me.

We took a slight diversion on our way home, passing Sammy Miller Motorcycle Musem further along Bashley Cross Road, where

work went on attending to donkeys in a field and pigeons perched on a rooftop.

Historic transport, like this plane on display needed no feeding during lockdown. The motorcycle weather vane was in a constant wheel spin generated by the stiff breeze.

Like any other ungulates in our fields there are always some of these alpacas seen on the Sway road inquisitively spotting me spotting them.

Shortly after lunch deceptive clouds scudded across rapidly changing skies over Downton allowing cerulean patches and brief sunlight. This was all too fleeting. Soon we were back in the gloom.

This evening we dined on Jackie’s succulent sausages in red wine; creamy mashed potatoes; crunchy carrots and cauliflower; and firm Brussels sprouts with which she drank Peroni and I drank The Second Fleet Limestone Coast Shiraz 2019.

A Close Encounter Of The Porcine Kind

I have often featured cattle and other animals basking beneath Bramshaw’s ancient oak. These pictures were produced in November 2018.

This morning the unburied corpse of this once mighty giant, some of its limbs chopped up, lay across the green, being investigated by a solitary calf which is hidden in three of these images. The muddy turf was littered with acorns. The shattered trunk of the tree was completely hollow. A telegraph pole had been pulled down with it. The weight of a few hundred years and the winds of storm Alex had been too much for this venerable Quercus.

We had noticed this disaster on our way to Nomansland in the gloom of yesterday evening and felt impelled to pay our last respects early this morning.

On this village’s other green ponies cast their shadows, donkeys dawdled,

and sheep sheltered under healthier oaks.

Along the road to Furzley Common others rose to their feet in trepidation as I approached.

At the Furzey Lane crossroads I witnessed a close encounter between a somewhat sheepish pony and a snuffling piglet.

Soon the little porker trotted across the road to join its squealing siblings swinging round the corner in the wake of a soggy, grunting, sow.

While I poked my lens at pigs, Jackie aimed at alpacas occupying a distant shed.

Donkeys and a foal soaked up the sun in Blackhill Road.

Our return home was greeted by rainclouds and a showery afternoon.

This evening we dined on Jackie’s spicy lamb jalfrezi, a plain paratha, and turmeric tinted boiled rice with which she drank Hoegaarden and I drank Cahors Malbec 2018.

A Shared Hairstylist

This morning I completed an e-mail exchange with Barrie Haynes who had sent me a copy of his latest novel, “Adam”.

The book carries a good, intriguing, story written in tight, fast-moving, prose with nothing superfluous.

Despite its five star rating on Amazon, the work, on account of the sexual innuendos which some will find humorous, will not appeal to all tastes. There is however no bad language. Barrie tells me that a sampler can be read on that site in order to allow potential buyers to make their own judgement.

Today we took a break from gardening, although Jackie did perform some watering, weeding, and dead heading after lunch.

Alongside the A338 we stopped to photograph a splendid Virginia creeper we have often admired.

Once we are into the north of the forest we are bound to encounter donkeys,

such as these with their sometimes somnolent foals at Ibsley,

where ponies gather in less numbers. One of the latter equines has a shared hairdresser with

the elegant alpacas resident at Hockey’s Farm, where

we lunched alfresco on account of Covid restrictions. Their excellent system provides a takeaway service which is delivered outside where we are permitted to eat it. This, today, was somewhat disconcerting as the cooing, twittering, and gentle birdsong emanating from the aviary

beside which we sat was constantly shattered by

the machine-gun rattle of acorns crashing onto the corrugated perspex roof. Some ricocheted downward. I sat on one that had come to rest on my chair.

It was Jackie who photographed the aviary guide and the first three of these gallery images.

We were fortunate not to have been lunching beneath the conker tree a hundred yards or so along the road.

This lane and wall outside Stuckton, where a speckled wood butterfly settled on its ivy cladding, were dappled by sunlight

that also cast shadows across the Godshill end of Ringwood Road thus camouflaging wandering ponies.

This evening we dined on spicy pizza and chicken salad with which Jackie drank Hoegaarden and I finished the Douro.

“All Over In A Flash”

This morning’s sun shone blindingly bright in clear skies; the temperature was finger- tingling chilly. Because the meteorologists had predicted rain this afternoon we drove out early to Mudeford Quay.

I had never seen the normally tranquil harbour water as choppy as it was today.

The high tide surged back and forth over the shore line leaving bubbles clinging to driftwood;

gulls bobbed among the undulating surface oscillations,

occasionally taking to the air

and settling on the grass

until scattered by hastening motors.

Leaving a pair of brisk joggers to their exertions I walked over to the quayside with its

rougher seas and bouncing buoys.

A solitary jogger trotted past two women progressing at a gentler pace, while

an eager dog towed its owner along the pool sprinkled promenade.

From a safe distance an animated baby seated in a buggy was being shown

waves battering the sea wall.

Jackie photographed me

 photographing her. How’s that Pauline?

As we prepared to move on the Assistant Photographer showed me an image she had produced of

yacht masts and a bench, and related the story of the day.

Before my Chauffeuse had moved over to the quayside a young woman had emptied a carrier bag full of food onto the grass in front of Jackie’s car. Within seconds

a squabble of seagulls swooped seeking sustenance and set about each other scavenging insatiably.

It was all over in a flash.

At Avon the eponymous river had spread itself across the neighbouring fields,

encroaching upon calves’ feeding area.

We continued on to Hockey’s Farm shop for brunch, where we were disappointed to discover that the café was closed because a new floor was being laid.

The straggly-damp alpacas in the pasture might have appreciated their own new floor.

A thatcher’s pig has flown up onto the roof of the cottage repaired last summer.

The hair of a group of ponies at South Gorley may have been dry, but now it needed a good shampoo.

Others a little further on seemed to have had one already.

We returned to the excellent Café Aroma in Ringwood for our plentiful brunch, then travelled home facing oncoming driving sleet.

This evening we dined on Jackie’s watercress soup and rolls with which I finished the Costiere de Nimes.

 

 

 

Damper And Damper

Yesterday evening we watched the last two episodes of Series One of The Crown.

Today was swathed in rapidly increasing gloom.

Jacqueline dropped in for a brief visit late this morning. Afterwards Jackie drove me to Hockey’s Farm shop for lunch. We left home in slight drizzle, and returned in a deluge.

Even though it was only early afternoon headlights and wet roads were the dominant view from the dripping windscreen.

Hardy ponies at Ibsley saught shelter where they could;

the more cosseted field ponies made the best of their wet rugs;

Alpacas alongside Ringwood Road just cheerfully became damper and damper.

This evening we dined on a second sitting of Hordle Chinese Take Away’s excellent fare, with which I finished the Fleurie

Fly Masks

I didn’t think I could face the tension of listening to ball by ball broadcasting of the last day of the first Ashes Test match of 2019, so I suggested a trip out this morning and deferring cricket gratification until this evening’s highlights.

Before leaving, Jackie photographed raindrops on spider’s webs and our porch planting. These will repay bigification.

Consequently we drove to Hockey’s Farm shop hunting for suitable teapots to offer Nugget for his habitation. As Jackie pointed out, we had forgotten to ask our robin “whether he preferred new-build or something with more character.” Hockey’s had a few characterful examples but they carried typical loading of prices for a New Forest residence. Since the lids would be discarded this seemed a bit steep.

Heather and bracken along Holmsley Passage had brightened after receipt of the recent rain. While I photographed the moorland Jackie was careful to point out the heather’s healthy range of hues.

On leaving Burley we were surprised to notice that a grey pony, waiting patiently on the verge seemed to have induced a low crawl in the traffic. It was not until we drew level that we spotted its companion standing bang in the middle of the road between the two streams of cars.

As we proceeded along Crow Hill the startling eyes of an extraterrestrial landing craft sent Jackie hugging the hedgerows on the left side of the road. It was with some relief that we realised this was a large tractor slowly towing a very long hay bale container.

In the vicinity of Linwood we took a diversion along our favourite unnamed lane. This is in effect a cul-de-sac,

along which there are some interesting houses and gardens;

and, as today, we are likely to encounter equestriennes.

Heavy field horses wear full fly masks, protecting eyes and ears. One, more inquisitive than the other which couldn’t really be bothered, gave us a sun-kissed smile as we paused to demonstrate interest.

Several thirsty ponies and a foal, paddling in the forded stream at Ibsley, left the water to a grey as they settled on the opposite bank.

Before we brunched at Hockey’s I photographed their adult and juvenile alpacas and an elegant pair of geese.

To no avail we tried charity shops in Milford on Sea for the teapots. Jackie then left me at home while she tried similar outlets with more success. Nugget will have a choice between one plain and simple new-build and another masquerading as a watering can. I will feature the finished articles after they have been hung.


I watched the cricket highlights as planned.

After this we dined on Jackie’s delicious chicken jalfrezi; toothsome mushroom rice topped with a tasty omelette; and a plain paratha. The Culinary Queen drank Blue Moon while I finished the Saint-Chinian and started another – this time Clostre Brunel, also 2016.

Making Pictures

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One of Aaron’s tasks this morning was to start clearing the falling leaves. He used his handy blower to stir the frisky foliage.

Jackie and I left Elizabeth behind when we left before our friend had finished this morning to meet Frances, Fiona, Paul, James, Danni, and Andy for lunch at the Luzborough House pub in Romsey. Elizabeth had a cold and was careful not to pass it on, either to my two pregnant nieces or to our mother. The venue had been chosen so that sister-in-law Frances, her daughter, son-in-law, and grandson could visit Mum in hospital.
The meals were OK. My choice was steak, prawns, calamari, and salad followed by ice cream sundae. I drank Old Speckled Hen.
On our return home, Jackie and I, having opted not to overcrowd Mum, took a diversion into the forest.

At Bramshaw, we took a lane we have not previously discovered. This led us to Bramble Hill where, sharing the sky with cotton wool clouds, the sun gilded the bright bracken. I was delighted when an obliging young lady brought her steed into shot. As I told her, she had just made a picture.

A string of stately alpacas stepping across the fields of ‘Faraway Alpacas’ in Godshill, passed a blissfully happy hembra suckling her contented cria.

Further along the road a lone chestnut pony took its turn at making its own couple of Autumnal pictures.

No further sustenance was needed this evening.