comma butterfly – derrickjknight

Rooting And Wallowing

This morning while Jackie shopped at Tesco I carried out a bunch of dead heading.

After lunch I wandered around the garden with my camera

and photographed a range of blooms, each of which is titled in the gallery;

a bee on a cosmos and a comma butterfly on verbena bonariensis.

Later this afternoon we drove into the forest and discovered from the presence of pigs trotting across Jordans Lane that pannage has begun. This is the period when pigs are freed to eat up the mast – acorns and other autumn fruits which are poisonous to ponies.

This gathering of pigs and piglets was more interested in rooting and wallowing on the still-muddy-enough-for-fun drying Pilley lake bed.

There had not been a scarecrow trail in Hordle this year, but it looks as if someone in Sheldrake Gardens had made their own individual effort in the form of this

pair representing the Gruffalo and mouse.

This evening we dined on oven fish and chips and peas, with which Jackie drank Hoegaarden and I drank more of the Fleurie.

Synchronised Grazing

This morning, while Jackie continued her general garden maintenance, including mowing the lawn, lulled by the gentle trill of birdsong and the tinkling trickle of water fountain, I enjoyed a dead heading session before wandering around with my camera.

Roses receiving attention included a peach climber; pink Mum in a Million at two of her stages of life; deep red centred For Your Eyes Only; lighter centred Summer Wine; golden yellow Absolutely Fabulous; pale pink Shropshire Lad and blushing Lady Emma Hamilton in their younger incarnations.

A Small White butterfly alighted on a verbena bonariensis between stems of Festive Jewel;

a comma stopped upon another;

a bee visited a salvia.

The first of these two white plants are hollyhocks grown from allegedly red seed; the second, Japanese anemones.

A pink version of the latter hides a lurking hoverfly.

Gauras, rudbeckia, and double lilies are all doing well.

The Lawn Bed and the Gazebo Path both sport splendid colour.

After lunch, we visited the Barbe Baker Museum shop in Lymington to buy some hand made birthday presents, then continued into the forest.

Ponies grazed on Hatchet Moor within sight of the eponymous pond and its waterlilies,

photographed by me,

and by Jackie,

who also captured the first of these cygnet images,

seen here with their parents.

I watched a wet dog return to the water where it attacked an inoffensive tree.

Its owner informed me that, like Becky’s Scooby, her animal would chase sticks thrown in the water, but never bring them back, so he resorted to replenishing the supply.

A pony foal wandered across the tarmac to the East Boldre end of St Leonard’s Road, and proceeded to accompany its mother in synchronised grazing.

Other members of the group did their best to block the road,

while another did her best to suck soup from the rapidly drying corner pool.

This evening we dined on roast chicken breasts; boiled new potatoes; and fresh salad, with which Jackie drank Greco di Tufo white wine and I drank Torre de Ferro Reserva Dao 2017.

Moulting

We spent the hot summer’s cloudless day gardening; well, Jackie spent the day at it while I chipped in intermittently.

Jackie took advantage of what shade she could.

In addition to dead bloom decapitation and carting clippings to compost bins I produced some photographs.

The blooms and garden views in this gallery can be identified and enlarged in the usual manner.

The same applies to these images of bees clambering on verbena bonariensis and delving into a hosta; and to the comma butterfly.

In the first picture above Jackie is conversing with the moulting Nugget, looking every inch the butterball that Jill Weatherholt dubbed him on his last appearance. Our concern at the scraggy condition of our little avian familiar has diminished now the we have learned he is undergoing a normal summer process. The last, smallest, of these images is “Where’s Nugget?” (92). Bigification may be required.

This evening we dined on the Culinary Queen’s wholesome watercress soup with bread and butter, followed by tempura prawns and fresh salad, with which she drank Hoegaarden and I opened another bottle of the Rioja and consumed some of it.

Escalating The Situation

With the aid of Elizabeth’s stick

I managed to walk the whole length of Downton Lane and back.

A cyclist passed me on the way down, and was himself

overtaken by a car.

As they approached the bend, round came another bicycle The pedallers made a neat vehicle sandwich and no harm was done.

Across neighbouring fields parked vans

could be seen. At any time of the year you will always see one carrying campers on this lay-by.

The road narrows and bends at the bridge over the

shallow stream now barely visible beneath the scrub. It is quite difficult for a pedestrian to hug the narrow verge, especially when not wishing to grasp the metal rail that someone else might have touched.

After leaving the bridge I passed this friendly young couple approaching it. They seemed to have understood the principle of social distancing in the time of Corvid.

On my return back up the hill I passed a comma butterfly enjoying a mud bath provided by

an underground stream irrigating the tarmac.

One border entrance to Shorefield Country Park appeared to be quite effectively closed.

While I followed a cock pheasant trotting up the lane (biggification will reveal him keeping to the right hand verge) I noticed the two young people holding a conversation in the distance. As I approached I rather expected them to move over a bit to let me pass.

When they shifted just a little to avoid a passing cyclist who had been forced onto the wrong side of the road, it became apparent that my assumption had been erroneous.

The standing couple stepped back again after the cyclist had gone. When I arrived I stood quietly in front of the vehicle, slightly to the right. It appears that I was invisible. Eventually I said “I don’t think you are giving me two metres to pass”. The pedestrians laughed, “It’s not funny”, I calmly announced. There were two women in the car. The driver cried “He’s my son. I haven’t seen him for a long time”. Raising my voice a little to make sure she heard me, I replied “I’ve seen him twice today. The first time I thought he’d got the idea, but clearly not”.

The driver started the engine and drove on as I stepped aside. The couple continued on up the hill. I called to them “You didn’t need to go right away. I just wanted space to past.”

Making no reply they walked on in silence. As so often when a third party makes an unnecessary intervention, the situation is escalated.

It was only when I uploaded this last photograph that I noticed the sign in the window.

In the meantime Jackie photographed

two Japanese painted ferns;

the budding Cordeline Australis;

a very hairy caterpillar;

a tellima grandiflora;

a red leaved pieris;

an enlarged camassia;

and a pigeon perched on the weeping birch.

This evening we dined on moist smoked haddock; piquant cauliflower and broccoli cheese; boiled Jersey Royal potatoes; bright green spinach; and flaming orange carrots, with which Jackie drank Peroni and I drank Wairau Cove Sauvignon Blanc 2019.

Passing Pedestrian Pairs

On another hot, sunny, day

I took a stroll around the garden, passing the Dead End Path;

the Heligan Path;

the Rose Garden;

the Palm Bed:

and the Cryptomeria Bed – where’s Jackie in this shot?.

Jackie weeded,

planted,

and generally tidied,

including rearranging pots to her liking. She photographed some of these herself.

and a comma taking a pause on an owl,

while I photographed some of the frilly flamenco flounces flung among the tulips

Soon afterwards I walked along Hordle Lane to the paddock and back.

Various wild flowers line the verges.

Ten days ago when these wilting daffodils were young and fresh the bluebells now fronting them still lay inchoate beneath the soil.

A sunlit dock leaf took me back seventy years to “when I was a lad” and our mother told us that these, when rubbed onto the affected skin, would nullify nettle stings.

In fact they do not neutralise the venom, but with vigorous rubbing the moist sap does ease the pain.

Gaps in the hedgerows offer flanking views such as this wind-sculpted tree,

and neatly framed field.

The ditches are mostly bone dry, but certain stretches contain scummy smatterings of residual fluid.

Two strapping steeds grazed in the paddock

one corner of which was now carpeted with pine-cone piles.

On my return trip a pedalling cyclist sang peacefully to himself.

Later, hearing a pedestrian pair approaching from behind, exchanging pleasantries, I crossed the road to let them pass. They, in turn, were overtaken by a car,

by another bicyclist,

and by another approaching ambulant couple. The requisite distance was maintained.

This evening we dined on succulent roast pork; roasted new potatoes in their skins; crisp sage and onion stuffing; crunchy carrots and firm Brussels sprouts; and tasty red cabbage, with which Jackie drank Hoegaarden and I drank Patrick Chodot Fleurie 2018.

Variations On A Game

Today winds were fresh; rain was absent; and the temperatures were cool.

The verbena bonarensis attracted butterflies like this Comma;

and this Small White,

examples of which flitted everywhere, seeming to use white blooms as camouflage. Can you spot any one of these which will benefit from enlargement on accessing their gallery with a click?

Jackie continued her care work on these cosmoses and clematis on the back drive;

these, elsewhere, needed rather less attention.

This somewhat rusty duck had allowed the recent rain to roll off its back.

These bidens are some of many self seeded from last year.

Jackie has successfully tied up Margery’s hollyhocks

with string.

It was quite a stretch for the Head Gardener to tidy the white everlasting sweet peas.

In the process she pointed to a glass robin, crying “there’s Nugget”.

So, now you’ve been given a clue can you answer where’s Jackie?

The real Nugget had come out to play the game. In order to help newer readers who may not be aware of what they are looking for, and to give others a bonus we have today, in order of difficulty:

Where’s Nugget? – 4a;

Where’s Nugget? – 4b:

and Where’s Nugget? – 4c.

Not far from our little friend the stumpery is bedding down nicely.

Late this afternoon, realising that this was expected to be our last dry, sunny day for some time, Jackie drove me round the Bisterne Scarecrow Trail. I have the makings of a photo story which I will save for tomorrow. This is because rain is expected all day then; because I will require considerable time to work on the post; and because I am knackered now.

While I focussed on one of the exhibits Jackie photographed a couple of chickens scratching in the gravel.

Their flamboyant male companion flexed his muscles on my return to the car.

This evening I watched the recorded highlights of what rain has made the first day of the second Ashes Test Match between England and Australia, before we dined on minty lamb burgers, new potatoes, cabbage and carrots with which Jackie drank Blue Moon and I drank Doom Bar.

Building Materials

CLICK ON ANY IMAGE IN A GROUP TO ACCESS ITS GALLERY, MEMBERS OF WHICH CAN BE VIEWED FULL SIZE BY SCROLLING DOWN AND CHECKING BOX ON BOTTOM RIGHT. SINGLE IMAGES CAN BE ENLARGED WITH A CLICK WHICH CAN BE REPEATED IF REQUIRED.

Today’s sky was cloudless, the sun shone, and the temperature was hot enough for summer.

Most of our tulips are now fully opened.

The mirrors, like these beside camellias, now have blooms to reflect.

Heucheras and forget-me-nots

Heucheras and forget-me-nots are enlivening the rose garden edges.

Comma butterfly

Butterflies, including commas, freely flit about.

Now that the winter flowering cherry is thinking about shedding its blossom, others are coming into full bloom.

Naturally, we took a drive into the forest.

For most of the stretch of road between Burley and Bransgore we were treated to a generous display of shiny MAMIL backsides. It was difficult to construe the occasional cyclist’s veering across the centre of the road other than as designed to prevent any thoughts of overtaking the crocodile.

Horse and rider

By contrast, the equestrian on the horribly pock-marked Snails Lane had the good sense to tuck in her steed and wait as we approached.

Perched on the backs of long-suffering donkeys at Ibsley, a clattering of jackdaws filled their beaks with the creatures’ soft, flexible, hairs pecked out for use in nest building. As I approached the scene, the birds flew off. Uncomplaining, silent, and motionless, this forlorn creature fixed me with a baleful eye.

Donkeys shared the road with cattle at Gorley Lynch,

but at Hyde they were reluctant even to share it with motor vehicles.

We lunched at The Hyde Out Café then collected a blood test referral form from our GP. This is for a post-hip-replacement follow up. There are no problems but I have been asked for this and the completion of a questionnaire because, in the years since my operation, involving a metal on metal replacement, it has emerged that that method has led to later difficulties for some people. My knees are nothing to do with that.

Paul popped in for a visit this afternoon, and we enjoyed our customary pleasant conversation. Modern life and its geography means that this is something that doesn’t happen very often now, and it is our loss.

This evening we dined on Jackie’s splendid chicken jalfrezi and aromatic pilau rice with which I finished the Shiraz

Seeking Camouflage

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The sun has returned after several days’ absence. I wandered around the garden with a camera. These photographs reflect the current conditions in our plot.

Hibiscuses are now in full bloom. This one is at the front;

as is this yellow climbing nasturtium sharing the garage frontage with

hanging baskets such as this container of geraniums an lobelia blending with the clematis Star of India behind them.

There are quite a few dahlias reaching up to meet the Chequerboard fuchsia sharing the basket suspended from the wisteria arbour with the paler blue lobelias.

A buddleia peeps through the Gazebo arch festooned with clematis Polish Spirit;

nearby petunias hang from the eucalyptus.

Leicesteria drop earrings dangle in the West Bed

which also contains white Japanese anemones Jackie planted a couple of years ago to contrast with the ubiquitous pink ones.

Begonias swing from the dead snake bark maple.

Priscilla gladioli have survived the rains in the

New Bed.

These petunias and geraniums stand on a brick plinth in the Weeping Birch Bed;

opposite them a pot on the corner of the Raised Bed contains more of each with many blooms behind them.

The crocosmia in this shot greets you as you leave the Rose Garden,

this view of which is focussed on Just Joey.

Altissimo, in the centre of this shot looking into Elizabeth’s Bed, has sent out a lower than normal stem.

Yellow rudbeckia takes centre stage in this section of the Palm Bed.

This bronzed Comma butterfly appears to be seeking camouflage from the dead little fir tree

in a pot on the right hand side of the Gazebo Path.

Perhaps last night’s power cut improved tonight’s evening meal. A consequence was that the lemon chicken Jackie was marinading remained in the lemon juice overnight. We enjoyed this with her special fried rice and runner beans. I finished the pinot noir. Jackie had drunk her Hoegaarden on the patio as an aperitif.

A Splendid Morning

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The weather this morning was splendid. The morning was to become more so, with a visit from good friends.

In eager anticipation of the arrival Jackie was out early sweeping the corridors, manicuring the green carpet, refreshing the flowers, and generally tidying up the reception room that is the garden. It seemed only right that I should get out there and help.

Right on time at 11 a.m. Geoff Le Pard arrived with the Textiliste, the Vet, and Dog.

We all sat on the patio with coffee and sparkling water. This is one view across the Kitchen bed.

Everyone then wandered around the garden. Here are a couple of views featuring the Textiliste, a skilled gardener herself.

This was the first bench tried out by Geoff.

Partly for the benefit of our mutual friend, Pauline, the Vet reprised a photo of Geoff and me taken a year ago. Dog wasn’t in the last one. He didn’t get the joke his master and I shared.

The Vet, of course, was, herself, far more worthy of the camera’s attention. Was Dog feigning an ailment in order to obtain a scratch?

The large chimney pots, one of which holds this bidens, were much admired.

Jackie, amused by the photo session,

was soon to be joined by Geoff and Dog on the Nottingham Castle Bench. In the right foreground of this shot is another of the chimney pots.

The opposite corner of the Dead End Path contains this heuchera and these day lilies.

On a final visit to the Rose Garden before we set off for lunch, I spotted a bee slaking its thirst on Summer Wine.

Watched over by an Ogre we all lunched at The Beachcomber Café at Barton on Sea. He seemed to be having as much fun as we were.

Afterwards, Jackie drove me to the Birchfield Dental Practice in New Milton for a clean and check up. All was well.

We arrived back home in time for the televised Wimbledon tennis semi-final between Johanna Konta and Venus Williams.

I then wandered around the garden again, along the Head Gardener’s Walk to the Shady Path

beside the Dragon Bed,

where a glowing begonia shines like a beacon.

A rather tatty Comma butterfly took a rest,

then flitted across to join a Red Admiral in the sunshine.

To the left along the Gazebo Path,

a large cluster of agapanthuses, in different stages of emergence, are bursting from their cases.

This is the trunk of the dead tree that supports solanums and clematises.

In the corner of the Rose Garden beside the orange shed, fuchsia Mrs Popple provides a strong contrast to Lanarth White hydrangea.

Finally, I thought Bruce would like to see how the sweet peas are coming along.

This evening Jackie and I dined on Mr Pink’s fish and chips, pickled gherkins and onions. I drank Arborescence Fronton 2016.

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.