beach – Page 2 – derrickjknight

Feeding The Birds (2)

CLICK ON SMALLER CLUSTERED IMAGES TO ACCESS LARGER GALLERIES.

Mat arrived with Poppy this morning. Our granddaughter was walking about and talking scribble. She was straight into toys.

She likes playing with the mice;

but was soon absorbed with the seal box and its fish contents, making lots of cooing noises.

Stopping for beverages at Beaulieu Farm Shop, where there was an Halloween table on display

we took a packed lunch to Hatchet Pond so Poppy could see the gulls,

which Jackie began to feed with the stock of seed that Matthew had supplied.

It wasn’t long before the hopeful donkeys came over for what they saw as their share. They were even more interested when our lunch appeared. Matthew correctly observed that that was why we were discouraged from feeding the asses..

Poppy wandered around clutching her food, which, naturally, was liberally smeared around her mouth.

A rather large fungus mushroomed through the turf.

Matthew used an interesting method of feeding the swans;

then took his daughter to look at the water.

He and Jackie then began a swinging game which had to be constantly repeated.

Thinking Poppy might like the tyre swing on Tanners Lane beach, we made that the next visit. She wasn’t happy with this swing, which was a little too advanced for her, but she was quite content to wobble about the shingle.

Across The Solent we could see a string of yachts passing the Isle of Wight.

After our offspring had returned home, Jackie and I dined on her perfect pork paprika with wild rice, followed by chocolate eclairs. She drank Hoegaarden and I finished the shiraz.

The Stone Face

CLICK ON SMALLER, CLUSTERED, IMAGES TO ACCESS LARGER GALLERIES.

This afternoon Jackie drove me to Hengistbury Head, where she drank coffee and I explored the scene.

En route to the beach, I passed the top of the hill, where walkers could be seen, to my left,

and observed silhouetted figures against the sea and skyline.

There was a new angle on the Isle of Wight and The Needles.

Walkers accompanied their dogs along the beach,

where a group did their best to dodge the advancing tide.

A gentleman contemplated the scene, and walked down the shingle to join them.

Eventually I did the same, and watched the sea slap the flanks of the rocks,

receding, sliding, slipping over the glistening, tinkling, shingle, and sucking at the seeping sand.

Soon the rolling waves came roaring in

and I walked back up to the footpath, passing a stone face, mouth open, ready to drink from the spume that would hopefully reach it.

I watched walkers ascending the hill which had once been home to Stone Age people (https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Hengistbury_Head)

Below, others were returning along the beach where

a pair of swans I had seen earlier still floated on the water.

We continued on to Boscombe where the pier was set against the sunbeams lighting the sea,

before returning home to a meal of fish cakes in lemon and parsley sauce, with boiled potatoes, carrots, cauliflower and broccoli, followed by bread and butter pudding. We finished the sauvignon blanc.

Playing Disrupt The Traffic

CLICK ON SMALL GROUP IMAGES TO ACCESS ENLARGED GALLERIES.

This afternoon Jackie drove us around the forest,

beginning with Tanners Lane where ponies, delaying our arrival at the beach, played at disrupting the traffic.

They crossed and recrossed the narrow lane in their eagerness to crop the grass

and prune the hedgerows.

When we actually arrived at the waterfront, a cyclist who had weaved his way through the horses ahead of us, was already sunning himself on the shingle;

a young lady carrying an Ordnance Survey map soon sat on a lump of concrete to take her rest.

The now familiar boat floated on the tide which was the highest we have seen it.

On the approach to St Leonards lies an apparently insignificant field that performed an important role during World War 2. Across The Solent in the background the Isle of Wight can be seen. Here Jackie reads

this explanatory sign. (I haven’t managed to enlarge this image in WordPress’s improved editing facility), so

I offer this information from the D-Day Museum website:

“Needs Oar Point, like Bisterne and Lymington airfields, was a temporary two steel track runway built in 1943. The runway was built to support the D-Day operations. On D-Day and for the next four weeks, squadrons flew sorties in support of the troops in Normandy. Additionally the Hawker Typhoon ground-attack aircraft flew from here. This provided low-level close air support to the Normandy beachhead.

During the Second World War there were twelve airfields in the New Forest, nine of which were built in wartime. Flat areas of land in this region made it suitable for creating airfields. Being situated near the south coast of the UK also made the The New Forest a useful base for aircraft operating over continental Europe.”

This evening we dined at Lymington’s Lal Quilla, where we received a very warm welcome and delicious food. My choice was Purple Tiger, which is a dish of tiger prawns, tamarind, and various other spices. We shared special fried rice, onion bahji, and a garlic naan. We both drank Kingfisher.

Going For A Paddle

CLICK ON IMAGES TO ENLARGE. REPEAT IF REQUIRED.

On another summery September day Jackie and I nursed colds indoors whilst Aaron and Sean virtually completed removing the grizelinia hedge. I scanned another couple of dozen colour slides from September 1982. These were from a holiday in Brittany enjoyed with our friends Ann and Don. Here is a selection:

The group nearest the centre of this underpopulated beach include Jessica, Ann, and Sam.

A gentleman emerged from the sea clutching a cluster of seaweed;

a string of gleeful children danced their way to the ocean;

a lone woman passing them traversed the beach.

Hand in hand, Jessica and Ann led Sam into the water

and swung him to meet the wavelets.

Ann continued the gymnastics

while Jessica went for a paddle.

Sam, dried off, and ready for bed, told his sister all about it.

Attached to our rented gite was a shed with a corrugated iron roof

that blended quite well with the ageing hydrangeas.

This evening we dined on pizza and I drank Doom Bar.

A Rapid Change Of Light.

CLICK ON IMAGES TO ENLARGE. REPEAT IF REQUIRED.

Early this morning we had an avian visitor, in the form of a juvenile robin looking wistfully through the kitchen window, during intervals between frantic flapping. Jackie lifted it up and set it free, but didn’t wait for me to get in another shot.

Unbeknown to us, when we visited Lymington Quay a little later, we just missed Frances and her friends Dave and Kay who also spent some time there.

Initially oblivious of the hydraulic load-lift behind him, a young man dozed on a bench

against the backdrop of the Ship Inn,

with its lichen painted roof.

Tourists gathered around The Boat House Café,

waited for the cruises to begin,

or travelled on the ferry port train.

while more regular visitors prepared the rigging of their boats,

and a pair of kayakers set off between moored hulls.

As the quayside filled up and the hot sun rose in the sky, we set off for the cooler, less crowded, forest.

At East Boldre an imperious boxer dog occupied his own personal observation platform. (See comments from arlingwoman and 10000hoursleft below. The dog is an Old English Mastiff)

Cyclists enjoyed their track around the Ladycross Estate near Brockenhurst

where dappled sunlight played on the woodland trees,

and Jackie saw a dinosaur emerging from a dried up bog.

In this weather, ponies tend to shelter under trees, utilising their fly whisks.

It seems they have learned that those in white clothing need less shade.

Even before we arrived home, we could see mist rolling in from the sea. I didn’t need to suggest we went and had a look at it. My Driver just turned away from the house and made straight for the coast, where

the Isle of Wight was invisible,

and a light pall lay over those on the beach.

This afternoon we received a delightful surprise when the three people we hadn’t known had been at the quay arrived for a visit. We spent an enjoyable few hours together, naturally involving highly satisfying admiration of the garden.

This evening we dined on Jackie’s splendid chicken jalfrezi and savoury rice.

Not a bad day, really.

P.S. Barrie Haynes put the following additional information about the lifting device on my Facebook page: ‘As an amendment to that, the heavy duty ones (as in this case) do use oil when going down. It is released through a small orifice, thus making the tail lift go down slowly and safely with a heavy load and taking the stain of up to a couple of tons off the operating mechanism. So you were right after all Derrick it’s Mechanical (two big chains) Electrical (separate battery on lorry) and Hydraulic (for safety). For anybody reading this, never use a tail lift on a hired vehicle unless you are happy you know exactly how to do it. They can remove fingers!’

Preparing For Visitors

Travelling into the first streaks of dawn this morning, the usual commuter traffic sped along Christchurch Road in the direction of Lymington;

whilst in our garden the aged gazebo has flecked the clematis Cirrhosa purpurascens with rusty freckles

The proprietor of Fagan’s menswear shop in New Milton has occasionally fitted me from her parents’ outlet, Hunt’s, for big and tall men, in Boscombe. As regular readers will know, the last jacket she produced wasn’t quite big enough. Jackie therefore drove me to Boscombe, where, clearly one of Hunt’s smaller customers, I was able to buy two jackets and order a suit.

This town, now a suburb of Bournemouth, still boasts a fine, sandy beach. As it was a fine, springlike, morning we diverted to the beach.

Benches on the clifftop were occupied by basking companions.

A long zigzagged path led down to the beach. Leaving Jackie on a bench conveniently situated halfway down, I continued to investigate. I walked along to the pier, back up a similar path to the top, and through Bournemouth Rotary Club’s sponsored garden to our parking spot.

On the way down I was intrigued by a collection of inactive heavy plant on the sandy beach. This, I learned, was an effort to reclaim the sand for the summer’s visitors.

I noticed that there was a useful gap in the row of beach huts where a woman slowly pushing a buggy would eventually appear. After waiting for what seemed an age, I got the shot, but the inevitable happened. Masquerading as the proverbial bus, a gentleman emerged from the opposite direction.

I then met a couple ascending the slope. They told me what was happening, and why there was no current activity. Progress on the project is governed by the tides, so the men worked from 10 p.m. last night until 7 o’clock this morning, and would resume at 2 p.m. During this stage they will refurbish the groynes (no, Mr. WordPress, not groins). When that is complete, dredging of sand from beneath the waves will commence. It is expected that enough sand to reach the level of the promenade will be shifted by the month of May. The structure in the distance is the pier.

I was quite lucky to make this photograph. I turned off the camera in order to retract the lens, poked it through the wire mesh you see on the right, turned it on again, and pointed it hopefully at my intended subject. I only needed to straighten the final image a little bit.

It wasn’t long before I discovered that this ingenuity had been unnecessary (It was my Dad’s favourite joke to get me to spell it – as in ‘unnecessary, spell it’ – we always found it necessary to humour him).

Eventually, you see, the barrier came to an end, and it was possible to walk round to the machines;

to delight in the rust colour and textures of the smooth-worn grabbers,

and the weathering of the pointed timber piles.

The occasional beach hut, along the stretch leading to the pier, was being opened up.

The steep, scrub-laden, bank between these huts and the zigzag path was being cleared by a pair of goats.

I was most impressed by the final spring-cleaning effort. This cheerful pair were scrubbing the railings on the path up by Honeycombe Beach.

Water was collected in buckets from a tap further up the slope.

Local Chinese takeaway set meals for two always last us two days. This evening was our second helping of yesterday’s, with which Jackie drank Hoegaarden and I made further inroads into the malbec.

Of Course, It Was Saturday

In retirement it is quite easy to forget which day of the week it is. So it was for me today when Ian drove us all down to The Needles Eye at Milford on Sea.

Until I noticed how many families were active on the beach. Of course. It was Saturday.

The cafe was buzzing. With people, not insects. We enjoyed plentiful lunches, mine, of course, consisting of an all day breakfast.

Before,and afterwards, I photographed various

walkers,

passers by,

and families playing in the mild, if weak, sunshine.

This evening we dined seated on chairs at a table to eat cheese-centred fish cakes, chips and baked beans; and very tasty the meal was, too. We shared a bottle of Thornicher St Michael Riesling 2014.

Twins

This afternoon Jackie drove us all to Highcliffe Castle. The reason for the hilarity displayed in this picture is that, when debating whether we should pay for parking, I had said that we didn’t have to pay ‘from October until some other date’.

Well, I couldn’t remember exactly what.

Scooby did his best to get lost in the maze.

Ian examined an entrance,

at the side of which is a display board telling the story of the building. As usual, clicking on the image for enlargement will make this clearer.

It was a mild enough day for my companions to sample the tea shop refreshments alfresco. As they settled themselves, we met Kate and Toby with their twin baby daughters carried in slings.

I chose to investigate the grounds, from which, through trees, could be seen the sea and Mudeford Spit.

A lengthy zig-zag path led down to the beach.

On the way down I noticed a couple of walkers as I photographed the shore;

they seemed worthy of a picture in themselves. Only when I zoomed in on the second image did I recognise the twins and their happy parents. Naturally I parted with another of Becky’s blogging cards.

On my way back up the path I met Ian and Scooby coming down. At the top were the ladies.

By dusk the castle lights were lit.

This evening the four of us shared a bottle of Las Primas Gran Familia Airen sauvignon blanc 2014, with our Mr. Pink’s fish and chips.

Then And Now

This morning Jackie drove me down to Milford on Sea to check out The Cave. We had intended to begin the evening there with Danni. Andy, and Elizabeth, before going on to Lal Quilla in Lymington. The wine bar was not taking bookings because they had a quick turnover and expected to be very full this evening because of a fete on the green opposite. What we decided about this will be revealed later.

I walked back by my usual route. The beach was filling up with young families. Boys enjoyed what all boys do, throwing stones into the advancing waves. Others descended the steps, or, like me, stood on the clifftop watching those down below, including the two kayakers whose craft and blades glistening in the occasional rays of the sun. A number of readers of http://derrickjknight.com/2015/07/23/an-historic-view/ have requested an up to date picture of the house. I have taken one that replicates the original shot, and another which shows a later extension.

For ease of reference, here is the earlier postcard image.

The Post Office shop window now lights our entrance hall, wide enough to double as my study, in which I am sitting now. It is obscured by the crab apple tree in the left foreground. Also hidden is the alteration to the arched front entrance now forming, in part, a second window to our sitting room. The lower half is now an internal wall. What was then a gentle country lane is now the main thoroughfare between Christchurch and Lymington. Naturally the horse and cart has been replaced by a motor car. It would have been more difficult to take this photograph without a vehicle passing through than with several. Only one was not easy. Despite being a Post Office, the building didn’t have a telegraph pole outside in the early 1930s. The first of the two 1950s bungalows can just be glimpsed through the trees

The short pavement outside extends from our house to the corner of Downton Lane. There is nothing but a deep ditch on the other side, where I took my life in my hands to take these pictures. The earlier photographer could have set up his or her tripod in the middle of the dusty track. I wasn’t about to try that.

In those early days there was a pronounced bend almost opposite the pub. On our side of the land once existed an old cottage which would have stood in the middle of what is the now straightened road. The building must have been demolished, with its garden now lying under the tarmac. This tiny 1960 image is the best I can obtain from Frith’s Postcards site. The cottage is in the centre of the picture. Our house, in line with The Royal Oak, is the white speck to the right of it.

First Elizabeth, then Danni and Andy arrived on time for our evening out.. We decided that we would go to The Cave and have a look at the fete. Well, The Cave was filled to bursting and spilling out on the street, with hardly a yard for cars to drive between there and the green, on which it was standing room only, and not much of that. The fete turned out to be a deafening music festival.

We fled to Lymington and began with a drink at Ship Inn opposite the quay. We then dined at Lal Quilla where we enjoyed the usual excellent meals, good service, and usual beverages.

As the night sky darkened to a deeper blue, shop windows glowed, and the street lamps replaced the sun, we walked back down the cobbled Quay Street and returned to our respective homes. Danni and Andy make this picture.

On The Rocks

On another sunny day, insects, particularly flies and bees, were busy in the garden, where

some hellebores are now turning to seed,

whilst the tree peonies are budding,

and the euphorbias flowering.

This afternoon Flo added two photographs of bees,

one on a daffodil,

and another on a pansy.

Whilst engaged in that, she heard the wings of a dove, turned, drew like Clint Eastwood, and got a distant shot, of which this is a very small crop:

Later Jackie drove our granddaughter and me to Milford on Sea where Flo clambered on the rocks and I hobbled along the promenade.

Reminiscent of ‘Those Lazy-Hazy-Crazy Days of Summer’ of Nat ‘King’ Cole, ( YouTube it if you are below a certain age) the shingled beach was as crowded as we have seen it.

A young lady, legs swinging from the sea wall, arranged her hair, as Flo made her way down to the rocks at the water’s edge, where, after contemplating the waves, she sat for a while watching the spray before getting her feet wet, and slipping up the shingle slope with her customary crouching gait. She explains that stones in the wet shoes made it too painful to wear them, so she had to put them on her hands.

Flo left her soggy shoes in the car and found a more bearable barefoot route to sea-smoothed boulders further along towards the Marine restaurant. She explored these for a while and, after waiting for a young boy to finish his tightrope act, ran back along the sea wall. Like the boy, when she negotiated the narrow wooden section, she spread out her arms for balance, and concentrated a little more. Zola Budd, the South African born British Olympic athlete, who competed barefoot in the 1980s, comes to mind.

During all this time a couple basked on the concrete structure, oblivious of anything else.

This evening we dined on pork rack of ribs marinaded in barbecue sauce, with special fried rice, and green beans, followed, some time later, by Magnum ice creams,courtesy of Ian. I drank Louis de Camponac cabernet sauvignon 2014; Becky and Ian chose Echo Falls rose, and Jackie drank an alcohol free one bought by mistake. This latter error was not as disastrous as the alcohol free Cobra I once bought from Sainsbury’s. I don’t mind the lack of alcohol, but I do like it to taste a little like the real thing.