On another unseasonably mild day, I wandered around the garden with my camera, picking
allium,
daffodil,
camellias,
viburnum rhytidophyllum,
periwinkle,
and bergenia.
This afternoon we drove through the forest to Burley. On the way we stopped at a New Forest car park for a short walk with Scooby.
Ponies always gather round the parked cars because there is always a reasonable chance of hands offering titbits on the ends of arms extended from open windows. So it was today, until a family turned the tables and advanced on the ponies in great excitement.
It wasn’t long before the animals turned tail,
only to return to their habitual patch of heathland when the coast was clear.
A track, up which various walkers clambered, led down to a valley below.
Still an hour away from sunset, we were treated to some interesting skyscapes.
It was not yet 4.00 p.m. by the time we arrived in Burley, but the targeted tea rooms were closed. We therefore sought refreshment in the Burley Inn. Mine was a pint of Flack’s Double Drop.
Still not 5.00 p.m., we returned home in the dark. As we left the village and entered the less than broad, unlit roads across the forest, a stream of traffic approaching on our right, Jackie hit the brakes. Out of the dark, a black and grey pony appeared, in the Modus’s dipped headlights, ambling straight towards me on the passenger side. My chauffeuse barely had room to swerve around the beast to slip between that and the oncoming traffic.
Becky, two cars behind, was treated to a similar experience. This was our closest encounter yet.
This evening, Jackie, for our dinner, produced tender roast lamb, roast parsnips, Yorkshire pudding, stuffing, perfect carrots and Brussels sprouts, and cauliflower cheese. Apple crumble would have followed had anyone left enough room for it. Becky and Ian drank rose and I finished the El Sotillo.
