Either side of lunch we cleared most of the various items blocking the areas that Martin P is to start plastering tomorrow.
Afterwards we drove to Fordingbridge to deliver a backpack left behind by Stephanie on Boxing Day. We took a leisurely route through the forest.
Ponies grazed on the soggy green at Ibsley, where a swollen pool reflected the trees above.
Similar reflections were mirrored by the stream below Gorley Common;
trees etched their gnarled limbs into the skies;
the less hardy field horses rugs contrasted with the forest ponies’ winter hair on this much colder and brighter day than we have seen for some time;
and we encountered several sightings of deer.
We sped off the main road from Fordingbridge to Ringwood in order to catch the sunset at Bickton, where gold and pink hues transformed the sky and reflected in the mill stream.
Jackie photographed a viburnum bush, the wake of ducks on the river, and refections of the sunset.
Early this morning Richard and Al of Kitchen Makers visited to cut the bottom off the new inner door and return it to its position.
They brought a trestle in order to measure and cut the door in the front garden.
Before they put back the door, they carried the long case clock into the hall from the corner of the sitting room into which they had toted it before the flooring work began. There proved to be some difficulty with this on account of replacing the weights, which required generous patience and ingenuity considering that they had already fitted this in ahead of their planned day’s work. Jackie having reset it, the clock continues to keep the perfect time it has maintained for 200 years
Martin, from Fordingbridge, then visited to discuss and quote for rebuilding the wisteria arbour.
After lunch we posted the Probate Application, cheque, and supporting documentary evidence from Everton Post Office; followed on to Ferndean Farm Shop where Jackie purchased some provisions; and set out upon a forest drive.
The burnished landscape glowed along Holmsley Passage.
Ponies grazed and squirrels scampered about the dappled woodland and among autumn leaves nurturing mushrooms and sheltering solitary holly berries alongside
Bisterne Close, in a field on the opposite side of which basked
a lone deer in the sunshine that
backlit a pair of ponies beside Burley Road.
This evening we dined on Jackie’s wholesome winter stewp with which she drank Hoegaarden and I drank more of the Fleurie.
On a still sultry afternoon we took a drive around the forest.
Dumped beside the entrance to the paddock on Braggers Lane was a burnt out Daihatsu Fourtrak.
Whoever left it there did not destroy the number plate.
Looking over the landscape at Rockford End. we could see a sunlit distant marina.
Jackie parked beside the very narrow lane while I wandered about with my camera and photographed
a grassy verge; tumbling farm buildings in an overgrown field; a dappled bank; and a gate into a similar field
From the lane up to Gorley Common and Hyde we observed a basking herd of deer.
At the top of the hill ponies shared the pasturage with cattle. One pony found its tail in a tangle; one cow stopped the traffic.
At North Gorley three donkeys were employed clipping a hedge, and
a huntsman and hound took note of the wind direction.
This evening we dined on Jackie’s wholesome cottage pie; crunchy carrots; tender cabbage and runner beans, with meaty gravy. The Culinary Queen drank Hoegaarden and I drank Cepa Lebrel Gran Reserva Rioja 2011.
This morning Jackie continued with her general garden maintenance, including pruning, while I dug more weeds out of the Gazebo path gravel.
I can just about manage this for half an hour, but imagine the exercise is doing me good. Crouching is now possible; it is rising from the crouch that has me thinking I might not make it. So, after the pain barrier had been reached, with the gait of a man on stilts, I stumbled indoors for my camera and recovered my questionable flexibility wandering around with it.
Various Japanese maples are exhibiting their vibrant colours;
The crab apples at the front are blossoming, and the Amanogawa cherry is having a second flush. The blossoms of this Japanese tree that I photographed more than a month ago were on the lower branches; those higher ones, reaching to the skies, have now burgeoned at a more usual time.
Shadows fell across the lawn and across mosses and ornamental grasses.
Variously hued heuchera leaves join forget-me-nots and bluebells waiting for roses to bloom in the Rose Garden.
Although the sun was clearly taking a long siesta we took a drive into the forest this afternoon.
We stopped to admire the new crown to the thatch on the Woolpack Inn at Sopley with its attendant peacock.
Overlooking both the pub and Mill Lane stands
the 13th Century grade II listed St Michael & All Angels Church around which graveyard atop a steep hill I wandered.
The inscriptions on most gravestones and sarcophagi are largely obscured by colourful lichen.
Although some of the images above display the drop down to Mill Lane, this view from very close to a corner of the building demonstrates the vertiginous nature of this ancient place of worship.
Two woolly schoolchildren seem to have been left inside this currently Covid-locked church, which will definitely be worth a further visit when it is possible for visitors to enter once more. Services are held following strict regulations.
From the churchyard I could hear the rush of the mill race to what is now a wedding venue. Maybe the people in this photograph were checking it out for such an event.
It has recently been necessary to cut down a tree.
When we spotted a small herd of deer on nearby hillside,
Jackie parked on Rockford Lane,
along which I walked in search of the final shot.
For dinner this evening Jackie produced succulent baked gammon; piquant cauliflower cheese; stir-fried leeks with pre-boiled cauliflower leaves; and crunchy carrots with which she drank Hoegaarden and I drank Coonawarra Cabernet Sauvignon 2019
Last night the full moon cast a spectral spell upon the garden.
Early this morning we drove Elizabeth to Lymington Hospital for a routine procedure and collected her later after we had taken a short trip into the forest.
Unlike yesterday, today was largely overcast and consequently somewhat warmer. This was the sky above the Boldre end of Church Lane.
Field horses grazed alongside; a shaded shed stands opposite.
Towards the Pilley end I spotted a deer pack in a field. They were immediately aware of my distant presence and soon turned tail and retreated to what the felt was a safe distance. I moved slightly nearer. They backed off again. I changed my lens to a longer one. They repeated the process, then reiterated it. These were Cervidae, not Muridae, but they made me feel feline, playing cat and mouse with them.
Cattle were bearing down on the lake alongside Jordan’s Lane at Pilley, where
they stopped for a drink and grazed on the bank.
Except for one bay reflected in the water the ponies mainly crossed the road, where a pair of greys saw eye to eye.
Having collected Elizabeth we turned back to the Grove Pharmacy at Christchurch hospital where Jackie received her second Covid vaccination .
Elizabeth stayed on until tomorrow. We dined on Jackie’s delicious cottage pie; crunchy carrots; firm cauliflower; tender cabbage, and meaty gravy, with which my sister drank water, my wife drank Hoegaarden, and I finished the Bordeaux.
This morning we paid a visit to Ferndene Farm Shop, purchased three bags of compost, eggs, and salad items, then continued on a forest drive.
We turned off Pound Lane on the approach to Burley, where
Jackie parked beside the entrance to Honey Lane in order for me to test my knees on uncompromising terrain.
The height of the banks on the sides of this ancient path is indicative of its age.
The hooves of these work horses in an adjacent field were at my eye level.
As I set off down the lane I glimpsed what looked like a herd of deer dashing across in the distance. Realising that if I could reach the level of the fields I might be able to get a bead on them from a rusting five barred gate, I had a choice to make.
I could walk back to the Modus, situated where the smooth slope led to the gate, or I could climb up the root entangled rough incline. Regular readers will know which option I took. Surprisingly, I made it.
I was rewarded with a sight of the milling herd.
Now, if I made my way further along might I discover a different angle? How was I to do this?
Fortunately ponies had forged an albeit precarious track down the knobbly bank. Striving to avoid brambles and holly, I stumbled along it.
This gave me my different viewpoint. Until a snorting clopping from behind alerted both me and the now scarpering cervine crew to the approach of
two friendly equestriennes with whom I enjoyed a pleasant conversation gleaning the information that the deer were regular daily visitors who were quite problematic when they returned in darkness.
This afternoon Jackie continued planting and weeding the garden. My minimal contribution was trimming the lawn edges and carting some refuse to the compost bins, until I was relieved by a most welcome visit from Shelly and Ron enabling us to catch up for Covid time.
This evening we dined on succulent roast duck with crispy skin, boiled potatoes, crisp Yorkshire pudding, crunchy carrots, tender cabbage and runner beans, with tasty gravy. Jackie drank Hoegaarden, and I drank more of the Malbec.
This morning we visited Ferndene Farm Shop to buy three large bags of compost and a couple of trays of pansies, after which we took a drive into the forest, where
my quiet communing with an inquisitive pony opposite the entrance to Ibsley Drove was disturbed by the clear voices of a couple of approaching cyclists, and
the sudden explosion of raucous cawing by nesting rooks taking to the skies.
I then proceeded to bend my back more than I thought possible in order to photograph the
constant toing and froing of the prospective new parents as I imagined the males kept the incubating females supplied with provender, and occasionally did sentry duty. It may be that there were hungry infants in the nests, but, even by craning my neck, I couldn’t tell.
Looking down across the landscape at Ogdens North beneath leaden skies
we espied a pair of be-rugged field horses sharing their paddock with a herd of deer, including a rare white one.
This evening we reprised yesterday’s roast pork dinner with more of the same beverages.
while Nick Hayter continued decorating our kitchen after Barry had repaired the leaking roof, I watched the fourth day’s play of the Test match between India and England at Chennai broadcast on Channel 4.
This afternoon we drove to Grove Pharmacy at Christchurch Hospital for Jackie’s first Covid-19 vaccination. Her procedure was even quicker and smoother than mine.
We took a short diversion through the forest on our way home. With the temperature having plummeted to 0 degrees centigrade we experienced very fine snow throughout our trip.
Just outside Burley the moorland pools were iced over and bearing locked in branches.
The one shaggy haired, muddy legged foraging pony we encountered seemed oblivious of the falling fine floury precipitation.
Deer on Burley Manor lawn hugged the fenced boundaries, maybe seeking shelter from the hedges beyond.
Our next stops were at Otter and Everton Garden Centres where we bought a solar lamp and a shepherd’s crook on which to hang it for Elizabeth whose birthday it is today. We delivered them and stuck them in her lawn.
We have noticed a new phenomenon, one example of which Jackie photographed alongside Jordan’s Lane. It seems that cars are throwing up spray from the pools on the tarmac which have frozen in the process of dripping.
This evening we dined on oven fish and chips, baked beans, pickled onions, and gherkins, with which Jackie drank Hoegaarden and I drank Languedoc Montpeyroux Recital 2018.
During the first decade of this millennium, when I was more ambulant, I created a Streets of London series regularly scanned for these posts. This one contains a Banksy wall: https://derrickjknight.com/2018/11/20/mostly-around-notting-hill/
Yesterday I discovered this image of Lancaster Road W11 filed with the Brompton Cemetery pictures. By coincidence it features more wall art.
I spent an enjoyable hour this morning watching a phenomenal performance by my Australian granddaughter Orlaith’s dance group streamed from a local school.
The deer herd occupied Burley Manor lawn when we passed on our drive this afternoon.
Along Forest Road I squelched across soggy sward to photograph ponies and
reflections in waterlogged land.
On our way home we diverted to Barton on Sea in case there would be anything to see.
There certainly was. When a paraglider, dancing in the sunset thermals, swooped and dipped below the cliff edge on which his friend stood watching I could scarcely contain myself. I chatted with the watcher who told me that both young men were chuffed at what I was doing. “That makes three of us,” I replied. “You don’t often get a subject like this”. I returned to the car and handed over two of my blog cards, saying the recipients were welcome to take any that they wanted from the site. (If either of you are reading this and would like an A3 print or two get in touch and I would be happy to give them to you)
This evening we dined on Jackie’s fiery pasta arrabbiata and fava beans with which she drank Hoegaarden and I finished the Malbec.
It was a pair of grey ponies at the crossroads that prompted me to ask my willing Chauffeuse to park beside
the stream at Ibsley ford, where a story began to unfold.
The greys, casting their shadows in the morning sunshine, were mirrored by a couple of cyclists engaging in a lengthy conversation before parting and going their separate ways.
Leaving its companion to admire her silhouette, the lead pony
climbed to a higher level and, despite acorns being poisonous to horses, began to snuffle around them.
A kindly woman parked nearby, left her vehicle, and began lobbing apples in the direction of the animal that had remained on the green. You may need to bigify these pictures to see the airborne fruit just beneath a cycle wheel.
Having emptied her carrier bag the lady returned to her car and continued on her way, leaving the recipient of her largesse wondering what to do next.
There are a number of mighty oaks at this location. Here, one is host to an intriguing fungus; another leans over a stream; and a third casts long shadows.
This comparative youngster has seen better days.
Visiting holiday children spent many happy hours on this makeshift swing.
On the other side of the ford the continuing stream
has recently been bridged by a fallen tree which will see no better days.
I photographed some autumn leaves and turned to find that
Jackie had been focussed on me.
In nearby fields, reflecting the much colder, albeit bright, weather, field horses are back in their winter rugs.
We drove on to Hockey’s where we brunched, even though on technically takeaway meals, this time in
a warm covered dining area with its antique displays.
We had travelled to the north of the forest in search of peckish pannage porkers, but the only ones we met were these on Hockey’s pots.
On the road to Gorley I photographed a fence and its accompanying gate; a lane with smoke wafting past a thatched cottage; and sunlight piercing the same vapours within the dappled woodland.
Jackie meanwhile focussed on
the ancient craft of hedge laying
and a winsome weather vane, in the process pausing for the wind to produce a pleasing direction.
Later, we presented a dilemma to a hind and fawn imitating a pair of rabbits in headlights. They eventually decided to take the road ahead, until they encountered an oncoming woman. What now?
The walker moved aside and they scampered back into the trees.
This evening we dined on oven fish, chips, and peas with which Jackie drank Hoegaarden and I drank more of the Shiraz.
