bee – Page 7 – derrickjknight

Can It Be Mid-October?

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The lingering virus from which we have now recovered has really rather reduced gardening for a month. Today, I wandered around on a survey mission, and was pleasantly impressed.

The grass could do with cutting, but there is also colour in abundance.

Dahlias we would expect;

and chrysanthemums;

but clematises?;

roses Just Joey, Margaret Merrill,

Penny Lane, or Altissimo?,

begonias?,

geraniums,

and fuchsias in abundance?

Not to mention honeysuckle,

or bees frequenting asters.

This evening we dined on Jackie’s delicious pasta beef arrabiata. Her beverage was Hoegaarden, and mine Santa Julia malbec 2015.

Feeding The Birds (1)

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There was much electricity in the skies overnight, but none in the house. It was all required for a spectacular thunderstorm. From the news this morning it was apparent that we were very fortunate. Even in Christchurch, about eight miles away, a house was struck by lightning, and in other parts of the country many people woke up to continuing power cuts.

By late afternoon, when we were on a driveabout, the skies had broken up, but still looked dramatic.

Before then, I had filled two more of our large bags with chopped up branches, and we had taken them to the dump.

As before, bees had worked alongside me.

Following a roundabout route, we found ourselves at Hatchet Pond where

donkeys basked

or foraged.

The youngster snoozing by the Lyme disease poster is quite appropriately positioned, because, although the ticks carrying this very nasty complaint inhabit the forest grasses and shrubs, they are also carried by the donkeys.

The two adults seem so much more elegant than many of the asses found wandering in the National Park that we wondered whether they might be mules.

A family by the lakeside had come to feed the birds,

which became very excited at the prospect;

in particular, when watching them fight over breadcrumbs, we were given plentiful evidence of why the collective noun for seagulls is a squabble.

The donkeys turned up for their share,

and became quite persistent.

A magpie also tried its luck, until being seen off by a gull.

Not far away, in Furzey Lodge, a thatcher’s donkey has found its way onto a roof;

and the agisters’ pound is dedicated to Jeffrey Kitcher, M.B.E. : http://www.telegraph.co.uk/news/obituaries/8646105/Jeff-Kitcher.html

This evening we dined on chicken breasts in sweet chilli sauce, Jackie’s onion rice topped by an omelette, and runner beans. I drank Old Crafty Hen.

After The Drift

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When Aaron and Sean cleared space for the promised greenhouse, they stacked the cut branches at the end of the Back Drive.

I chopped or broke them into manageable sizes and filled two of our large orange containers with them. There is still enough for two more bags. Jackie and I took them to the dump and returned with a very large saucer for a big planter tub.

While I worked, big black bees and Small White butterflies were equally busy alongside me among the fuchsias and the verbena bonarensises in the New Bed.

From the recycling centre we went on a driveabout.

At Sway we came across a group of ponies bearing the identification marks showing that they had experienced The Drift.

When I featured this annual event, I explained that tails were clipped, collars replaced, and branding applied. This animal displays all three.

It was actually quite difficult to show the cuts on the tails because they were constantly being used as fly whisks.

Wherever the creature had rolled in the mud, it had besmirched its nice new collar;

whilst this one’s bath had obscured its brand.

We visited Milford on Sea to investigate the fortunes of Mr Pink’s Fish and Chips since its recent fire. Unfortunately it is closed until further notice.

The shingle and the rocks along the coastline were well populated, as can be seen by this shot of Hurst Point Lighthouse, the story of which can be seen here: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Hurst_Point_Lighthouse

Others were bathing in the water,

seated on folding chairs,

reading newspapers, or flashing tattoos.

This evening we dined on duck breasts in plum sauce; roast new potatoes in their jackets and peppers in chillies and herbs; and crisp carrots and green beans. I finished the Fleurie.

Find The Moth

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Today was overcast and unseasonably hot and humid. I cut the grass and had a wander around the garden. Many of our plants linger on, refusing to accept the advent of autumn.

We still have blooming clematises.

Although the leaves of the weeping birch are beginning to colour the Heligan Path,the beds bordering it remain colourful.

The new rudbeckias stand in a tub as they are having to await the demise of the nicotiana sylvestris which they are intended to replace.

We have white begonias.

Bees continue to plunder the sedums into which they merge;

but the prize for camouflage goes to this moth posing as a dying begonia leaf.

This evening we dined on Jackie’s powerful chilli con carne with rice and peas, followed by Victoria sponge and lemon meringue pie ice cream. I drank Croix des Célestins Fleurie 2014, and the Culinary Queen didn’t.

Out Of The Corner Of My Eye

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Apart from June, August is possibly the best time to appreciate Jackie’s planting design. I wandered around this morning with that specifically in mind.

This view from the Brick Path takes in the planting of the small triangular bed at the intersection of this path with the Gazebo one. Phlox, pansies, bidens, and violas are in evidence. The cosmoses occupy the iron urn, and the geraniums a stone one. The chimney pot on the grass patch fills in the middle distance en rout to the South end.

Looking along from the other side, we pass through the Agriframes Arch which bears a new clematis. This latter plant has taken over from the rambling rose, Wedding Day, now spent for this year, and consequently cut back by The Head Gardener.

The cosmoses in the aforementioned iron urn form the foreground of this view through the gazebo to the Rose Garden. The gazebo bears its own well-stocked hanging baskets. Nicotiana sylvestris and agapanthus can be seen on the left.

The contents of the chimney pot on the grass fill the foreground of this view past Florence, also culminating in the Rose Garden. Several hanging baskets supplement the range of blending colours.

Stepping across to the other side of the grass, we can look across Margery’s Bed with its newly planted lobelias, leading us to the Rose Garden entrance. Lilies can be seen in shade on the right, and clematis Star of India is trained around its obelisk. Hanging baskets are also in view.

Hanging branches of the Weeping Birch drape its eponymous bed beyond which we reach the Southern fence. The white gladioli glow in the distance. I’ll stop mentioning hanging baskets. You get the picture.

Again looking to the Southern boundary, beyond a stone urn supplied with begonias and geraniums, on the left of the entry arch to the Back Drive, stand a few potted tomatoes. A white solanum and purple clematis entwine the dead tree by the New Bed.

Some corners of the Rose Garden need the assistance of plants inserted for the purpose of variety, in order to give them time to begin their next flush.

This view takes advantage of the hydrangea in Elizabeth’s Bed. The erigeron at the foot of the bench is another cluster of offspring from those outside the French doors.

Before leaving the Rose Garden, I treated myself to one close-up of a bee blending into St Johns Wort.

As I’m not going to mention hanging baskets, I can’t say much about the kitchen wall, except that some of the containers are on the ground or tables that can’t be seen.

At the far end of the above view lies the patio. Here is a corner of it.

Now, why did I include this out of focus repeat of the second Brick Path view? Well, out of the corner of my right eye I saw something about to happen, panned rapidly across the scene, and made a fortuitous capture which should be visible, in focus, without enlargement. Can you spot it? There’s no shame in enlargement.

When Giles visited with Jean a couple of days ago, he brought Jackie a couple of viper’s bugloss plants. These grow tall with blue flowers which hold a great attraction for bees. Jackie planted them on the Back Drive this afternoon.

This evening we enjoyed our second sitting of Mr Chatty Man Chan’s Chinese cuisine. Jackie drank Becks and I drank Doom Bar.

Patrick’s Patch Revisited

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We enjoyed a productive drive through the forest this morning.

On Hincheslea Moor the horizon still bore the early haze, as one man and his dog disappeared into the bracken,

whilst the sun’s rays illuminated the rest,

especially the bright purple heather.

Venturing into the wooded area at the edge of the moor, I became aware that I was being observed.

A number of Highland Cattle glided among the trees,

and sailed majestically into the sunshine beyond.

These great shaggy beasts have roamed the rugged landscape of Scotland since at least the 6th century AD, possibly having been imported from Scandinavia by invading Vikings.

Forage is easy to come by in The New Forest,

and they probably don’t need their extra overcoats.

They really are light on their feet, silent, and really quite elegant.

On my way back through the forest this one became more interested in my presence;

raising her head, she licked her chops;

and attempted a kiss, which, deftly avoiding tripping over a fallen trunk, I politely declined.

Moving on, the Lymington River at Brockenhurst was as smooth and effective as glass.

From there we travelled to Beaulieu for a visit to Patrick’s Patch. Although this gem of a community garden has featured in a number of posts, the link from 25th November 2013 explains its purpose.

Today, the garden was enjoying one of its peak periods. This path, to one of the many scarecrows, is flanked by sweet peas, dahlias, and globe artichokes.

Butterflies, like this comma, punctuated the hedges;

bees raided the echinacea;

at their peak were flowers like the dahlias above, this zinnia,

and the globe artichokes that bore the evidence of the irrigation of

Rachel, the Head Gardener, who worked over the whole plot with a snaking hose.

Before we left, this friendly young woman cut us a bouquet of flowers, including the zinnia pictured above. Jackie was quick to place them in a vase on the kitchen table.

This evening we dined on the offerings of Mr Chatty Man Chan at Hordle Chinese Take Away. I finished the last inch or two of the Slovenian white wine.

Abandoned

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Early this morning I stepped out into the garden to investigate the final work that Jackie did on Margery’s bed yesterday.

First she took out some unwanted plants, then replenished the soil and planted more lobelias.

Before returning to my armchair I spotted many bees foraging among the New Bed fuchsias, and photographed one.

This afternooon I received a link to this short animated film

[youtube https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=UBrJTzsvX3Q&w=420&h=315]

by Jim who had asked for permission to use one of my photographs as a backdrop. I like the clarity of the simple message, and what he has done with my image.

The rest of the afternoon, I was a couch potato watching the Olympics.

For our dinner this evening, Jackie produced chicken tikka, rice and peas, and vegetable samosas. She drank Hoegaarden and I abstained.

Planting Continues

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My contribution to garden maintenance today was to accompany Aaron to Mole Country Supplies to buy more fencing materials with which he and Robin virtually completed their job; to cut the grass; and to dead head some roses. Jackie did a lot of watering.

In the Rose Garden Emma Hamilton basked in the sunshine,

and Hydrangea Lanarth White tolerated the shadow of the orange shed.

A bustling bee explored a bidens;

a Small White butterfly sought refuge in the camouflage of a petunia;

and a rather tattered Gatekeeper took a rest in the Weeping Birch Bed.

The Head Gardener had also purchased a few more plants, including

the New Guinea impatiens introduced to the chimney pot on the grass that it shares with lobelia and geraniums.

By request, for our dinner this evening, Jackie produced fried eggs, bacon, and mushrooms; chips and baked beans. Lovely. She drank Hoegaarden and I didn’t.

Gardening With A Camera

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Photographing while gardening is a hazardous business. I blame the camera’s unforgiving eye. My entertainment this morning was tidying up the Rose Garden with dead-heading and sweeping back into the beds the mulch bark that our avian friends daily toss onto the paving; and clearing up the Head Gardener’s clipping piles.

I was at risk of exposing bits I’d missed, like these few scraps of bark in this shot of crocosmia torches burning alongside the Rose Garden path;

revealing tasks I hadn’t yet carried out, like the clippings in this view through the gazebo;

or incurring the displeasure of the Head Gardener for leaving a blue bucket in this view from the circular concrete of what we think is the site of an old well.

This afternoon we continued with our usual garden maintenance activities, mine, of course, including the new camera, with which I am beginning to capture elusive insects in flight.

Small White butterflies are never still;

and bees, like this one aiming for a crocosmia, are apt to dart from one plant to another.

Included among the many varieties of fuchsia we have

Chequerboard,

Hawkshead,

and Army Nurse, this one sharing an urn with trailing lobelia.

There is also variety in the Rose Garden, provided by different types of flower, such as lilies, geraniums, petunias, penstemons, heucheras and honeysuckle, in addition to the crocosmias mentioned earlier.

Crême de la crême,

and Winchester Cathedral are among the white scented varieties of rose;

Mamma Mia is here reflected in one of the mirrors placed for that purpose.

This evening we dined at Lymington’s Lal Qilla, where, despite their being very crowded, we received our usual warm welcome, friendly, efficient service, and excellent food. My choice was king prawn Ceylon; Jackie’s was chicken sag; and we shared mushroom rice, egg paratha, and Tarka dal. We both drank Kingfisher.

With the promise of an interesting sunset on our return, we diverted to Milford on Sea. In the second shot the sky is reflected in the Modus’s roof.

Our Industrial Past

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I forgot to mention yesterday that when I returned home I found that my cheque from Laithwaite’s had been delivered.

The Félicité Perpétue rose in the front garden has been sending thorny tentacles across the drive. This morning I restrained them with green wire.

Alongside the marguerites that accompany the rose,

a nasturtium trumpeted its presence.

Opposite, the clematis Mrs. N. Thompson and solanums

twine amongst the honeysuckle from which bees flit to and fro.

This new hollyhock is in bloom along the back drive.

In June 1981, I made a series of colour slides of gasometers. I scanned them this afternoon.

Here are sections of side views;

and one of a top.

There are glimpses of three in this image.

I cannot, for the life of me, remember where these were. Maybe the car wrecks could provide a pointer for anyone who may help identify them;

or maybe these snapdragons? Perhaps not.

The major problem for anyone attempting to assist is that these emblems of our industrial past may no longer exist.

This is what Wikipedia has to say about our gasometers: ‘A gas holder, sometimes called a gasometer, is a large container in which natural gas or town gas is stored near atmospheric pressure at ambient temperatures. The volume of the container follows the quantity of stored gas, with pressure coming from the weight of a movable cap. Typical volumes for large gasholders are about 50,000 cubic metres (1,800,000 cu ft), with 60 metres (200 ft) diameter structures.’

Today, there are very few left standing. The reason for this is described in this short video made by Tom Scott:

[youtube https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=SopJr0yHt-w&w=560&h=315]

One iconic gasometer, protected, or, listed since earlier this year, is visible from The Oval cricket ground. I spent many a day in the summers of my teens watching the rise and fall of this famous cricketing symbol. Wikipedia provides this photograph.

For our dinner this evening, the Culinary Queen produced smoked haddock, piquant cauliflower cheese (recipe), new potatoes, crunchy carrots, and sautéed leeks and peppers. We both drank Marlborough Oyster Bay sauvignon blanc 2015. Needless to say, it was all delicious.