A Sunny Interlude

I’m happy to say that James Peacock sorted out our internet problem this morning, in time for me to keep a dental checkup appointment, which was satisfactory.

We celebrated by buying a new washing machine to replace our older one which is becoming cantankerous.

This afternoon I was able to feature yesterday’s forest drive with photographs.

After three days and nights of gales it was refreshing that afternoon to experience gleaming sunlight glinting off

wet leaves and rivulets running down verges such as these in

Undershore, with its

wet leaves,

glistening branches,

and lichen covered trunks rising from high, soggy, verges.

Broken, lichen-green, branches dangled from wind blown trees.

High hedgerows lined one side of Bull Hill

while autumn leaves

and holly berries carpeted the other, more level, equally damp, terrain.

The wheels of most vehicles, like this bus at East Boldre, flung up showers of scintillating spray.

Outside East End the beautifully patterned hides of damp pasturing ponies sparkled in low relief.

One reflective verge revealed an image of a pedestrian gate beside a cattle grid at the Lymington end of Sowley Lane.

While I was making up my mind whether to focus on a flock of pheasants or a female deer in a field, the ruminant fled off into the distance.

This evening we dined on pork spare ribs marinaded in lime and ginger sauce and topped with satay sauce on a bed of Jackie’s colourful savoury rice, with which she drank Hoegaarden and I drank Pierre Jaurant Merlot – Cabernet Sauvignon Bordeaux 2020.

Ancient And Modern

Today it was mostly raining.

Nugget, however was determined to keep playing the game. Where is Nugget?

Following our trip this afternoon to Otter Nurseries to buy a couple of replacement pots for those damaged in the storm, the precipitation lessened so we drove into the forest.

Just outside Minstead, along the road between Emery Down and Stoney Cross that leads onto the A31

there is a sloping bank leading to an ancient hedgerow.

Clambering over the debris of recently fallen and sawn up trees,

I focussed on a group of ponies at the top of the bank.

One poor creature whose white blaze seemed a magnet for flies bashed her head on a lichen covered branch and shook herself distractedly in an unsuccessful effort to dislodge the pests.

As I made my way back to the car, speculating, as had Jackie, about the juxtaposition of these ancient hedgerows with fenced off modern forestry, she mentioned the three ponies that, with no warning, had suddenly thudded down the bank and clattered at great speed across the road. Any vehicle travelling round the bend in that first picture of the road at the permitted 40 m.p.h. would certainly have been involved in a collision. I had heard them when my back was to them on my return.

I was grateful to a young woman running with a terrier for, with her red sweater, adding a focal point to my landscapes from Picket Post.

This branch from high in an oak tree alongside Holmsley Passage was another victim of the recent storms.

A careful and competent riding group crossed the road outside The Rising Sun at Bashley.

This evening we dined on Mr Chan’s excellent Hordle Chinese Take Away with which Jackie drank Hoegaarden and I drank more of the Shiraz.