collared doves – derrickjknight

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What does Aaron have in common with a bee? You might be forgiven for imagining that it is that they both have very high work rates. That would be a good answer, but incorrect.

Watching our friend, unlit ciggy between lips, firing one-handed from the hip with his petrol-operated chain saw as he tackles the reshaping of our cypress tree, may provide a clue,

especially when you see the height of his tripodal ladder.

Aaron always clears up along the way. Today he dragged branches to the Back Drive where he cut up a few logs for his client, Susan, leaving the rest for the ‘burn site’ of the dump.

This branch demonstrates his clean cuts,

while this view from the patio displays the finished shape.

The persicaria red dragon baring its bloody fangs in the Dragon Bed,

and the crocosmia solfaterre are among the plants that will now receive more light and air.

In the Rose Garden, an intrepid fly scales the walls of Winchester Cathedral,

and geraniums in the stone urn beside the potting shed enjoy a glimpse of Summer Wine.

Japanese anemones appear to grow a foot each day.

The bee skirting a hopeful spider’s web, in order to work on a verbena bonarensis, provides the answer to my opening conundrum. Each in his own way is successfully dicing with death.

Later this afternoon we pulled up some brambles. As I walked along the Back Drive to deposit them in a bag for the dump, I almost stepped on twin juvenile collared doves sunning themselves on the gravel. Naturally I hurried indoors for my camera. When I returned they seemed to have disappeared. They were, however, simply playing hide and seek, foraging among the pebbles.

Not yet old enough for timidity, almost in tandem, they carried on about their business and left me to mine.

Here is a sweet pea for Bruce.

This evening we dined on Mr Chan’s Hordle Chinese Take Away fare. Jackie drank Hoegaarden and I finished the cabernet sauvignon.

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This morning we continued Spring clearing in the garden. My task was dead heading the hydrangeas.

One of Jackie’s was to clean out the Waterboy’s pond. He nodded his approval.

The Head Gardener was extremely excited about her corydalis flexuosa ‘China Blue’ which is apparently hard to grow.

Another euphorbia is flowering in the front garden,

where the winter flowering cherry has blushed continuously since September.

Sitting on the Castle Bench when I had finished my gardening I engaged in a game of peep-bo with a collared dove in a shrub that has become a tree. This creature kept lowering its head out of sight, then popping up briefly.

At least, that is what I thought I was playing. But, hang on a minute. What was this?

Do you see?

Yes. There were two. I had been playing gooseberry.

Sussed.

This afternoon we went for a drive in the forest.

The Shirley Holms corner beyond Sway is still pretty waterlogged.

These young ponies found a dry patch to have a lie down;

although my attention prompted the larger one, looking almost as awkward as I would, to rise to its feet.

As I returned to the car, two pigeons took off into the skies.

Primroses decorated the bank of a stream by the roadside at Sandy Down,

where horses in a field chewed hay,

Snake's head fritillaries, daffodils, primroses

and snake’s head fritillaries shared berths with daffodils and more primrose.

Steff’s Kitchen is attached to Fairweather’s Garden Centre in Beaulieu. We took coffee and water there, where a magnificent magnolia stellata shed confetti over the tables and the grounds.

This evening we dined on Jackie’s beef, peppers, mushrooms and onions cooked in a rich red wine sauce and served with new potatoes, carrots, and Yorkshire pudding. I drank more of the shiraz.

Tag: collared doves

Dicing With Death

Playing Gooseberry