Tag: field horses

Peering Animals

I opened a few collected presents for my 82nd birthday this morning, one of which was a bottle of Calvet Cahors Malbec 2021 from Helen and Bill which I opened to accompany the Royal Indian takeaway meal which Jackie collected for our dinner this evening.

This afternoon Shelley and Ron visited bearing more welcome gifts, after which Jackie and I took a forest drive.

The Portmore goats peered at us through their wooden fence;

I photographed the landscape through metal railings at East Boldre

where storm clouds gathered over the fields.

Canada geese and goslings with a few mallards occupied Hatchet Pond.

Back at East Boldre posts and wire along the verges fenced off the woodland beside

field horses peering through their protective fly masks.

The gates to their pasturage threw shadows across the roadside.

A Christmas Hedgehog House

Having during the last few days stocked up to bursting with Christmas festive fare and basic comestibles, Jackie discovered that she had run out of salt so we stopped at Stopples Lane Co-op to buy some.

Carefully packed into a thin strip of a terrace garden at the corner of the shopping precinct lay a delightful Christmas display on which I was able to focus during Jackie’s time in the shop.

Traffic slowed as it passed a horse rider guiding another animal. You will see that she was more respectful of cars than were many cyclists.

Ponies on the moor alongside Holmsley Passage basked over their breakfast.

Defensive cyclists on such as Crow Hill made sure that we, even if we had a mind to, would not attempt to pass them. This seems more offensive than defensive to me.

Further along ponies foraged in the sheltered woodland,

while field horses in Hightown were lit by the sun.

This being Flo’s birthday, we all dined with Becky and Ian at La Quilla where we had as enjoyable a time as always, with excellent food, brilliantly served in as friendly a manner as usual.

All Round Protection

Despite the still stiff breeze on this warm and generally overcast afternoon I was able to rake up leaves and clippings from the Shady Path and, with the contents of two trugfuls in the Rose Garden, add another used compost bag to the stack awaiting the next dump trip.

Afterwards Jackie and I took a forest drive.

According to the Royal Horticultural Society “Himalayan balsam (Impatiens glandulifera) [introduced to UK in 1839] is a relative of the busy Lizzie, but reaches well over head height, and is a major weed problem, especially on riverbanks and waste land, but can also invade gardens. It grows rapidly and spreads quickly, smothering other vegetation as it goes.”

There is a fine crop of this, blending with spears of our native willow herb, swaying on the banks of a dried up stream normally running under Bockhampton Road.

While we drove along Braggers Lane later, a group of field horses on a hill attracted my attention. By the time I had changed my lens and disembarked once more, I had also attracted theirs.

The first two had thundered down towards me before I lifted my camera.

As the others joined in the welcoming committee I became aware of the muzzles and fly masks offering all round protection. The covering for eyes and ears were clearly to keep the flies at bay; maybe the muzzles were worn to prevent biting. The animal craning its neck in the last picture was scratching on a fencepost. Flies were perhaps not the only source of discomfort.

A long tailback on Holmsley Road was brought about by ponies and a foal three shades of grey and one of brown clustering together for protection from the traffic.

The wind having picked up considerably by the time we returned home, we found patio chairs and parasol downed; as we stubbornly took our drinks seated on two of the chairs we watched trees, shrubs, and plants bending sharply this way and that until we went back inside for our dinner which, with the addition of parathas and vegetable samosas, consisted of a second sitting of last night’s chicken jalfrezi meal. Jackie drank Zesty and I drank more of the Gran Selone.

Rippling, Reflecting, Pools

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The ground may still be wet, but at least the rain had ceased today.

Martin was able to make progress on widening the step in front of the French windows, and

planning the layout of the paving, some of which he will cut to shape and size.

Jackie and I took a short drive into the forest where there was little sign of wild life.

Field horses were mostly sporting muddy rugs as

they sloshed around like these two at their gate.

Trees rooted in scooped out basins beside Beaulieu Road stand in rippling, reflecting, pools as is customary for them in rainy seasons.

This evening we dined on a choice of tasty penne Bolognese or beef casserole, with firm broccoli and tender green beans. Jackie and I chose the Bolognese, Becky enjoyed a bit of both, Flo and Dillon will take theirs later. The Culinary Queen and our daughter drank Buck’s Fizz while I drank Calvet Prestige Côtes du Rhône Villages 2021, given to me for Christmas by Martin.

Whose Core?

After a visit to Ferndene Farm shop this morning Jackie drove me into the forest, where, as in Beckley Common Road,

posts protecting verges along lanes are being planted to keep off the eagerly anticipated summer influx of visiting vehicles.

Field horses along this road are already wearing their fly masks protecting eyes and ears from their own less welcome visitors.

I am not sure what crop we can expect to grace this opposite field.

A fairly widespread forest feature is the random apple tree such as these at Thorney Hill,

with its gorse-gold landscapes, and in

Forest Road . We could easily have focussed on many more today. Whenever we do we always speculate on the muncher whose apple core provided the seed for others to enjoy. Was it lobbed from a car?, tossed on a walk?, or chucked from a folding picnic chair?

Forest Road woodland also contains pink-hued hawthorn, otherwise known as may. We are enjoined ‘ne’er [to]cast a clout until May be out’, prompting a time-honoured controversy. A clout is an archaic word for an item of clothing; and cast means shed, as in take off. The proverb refers to putting aside our winter clothing. There is, however, no consensus as to whether the upper case month of May is meant, or the lower case may tree. If the old saw (proverb) refers to May, then ‘be out’ means ‘has ended’; if may, ‘be out’ signifies ‘has bloomed’. This may never be settled. Whichever is correct, today I wore shirt-sleeves, sans undershirt and sans jacket – with neither the English nor the American vest. So, with either interpretation, I have it covered.

Donkeys shedding winter coats cropped the verges on our return road out of Brockenhurst, while ponies kept clear of the tarmac.

This evening we dined on pork spare ribs and Jackie’s savoury rice with which she drank Hoegaarden, Flo drank Kombucha ginger and lemon, and I drank L’Ayrolle Fitou 2019.

Window Shopping

This morning I posted https://derrickjknight.com/2021/12/14/a-knights-tale-77-1-experiential-groups/

After lunch on this gloomy, yet warm, day we drove to Lyndhurst for some Christmas shopping. The High Street was so unpopulated that it was only

when I wished to include visitors in photographs that I could do so,

leaving shop windows to my lens.

The Stag’s electronic Santa was not a real person.

Jackie was real, but I also focussed on her. In the second picture she is aiming for the Camping shop, where we made a purchase; and who did we see when we emerged into the street but

Danni and Ella – and “Where’s Jackie” (11) – and Jack in their car.

Alongside Rodlease Lane on our return home stood a pair of inquisitive field horses.

This evening we dined on more of Jackie’s jalfrezi and pilau rice with which she drank Hoegaarden and I finished the Malbec.

Cat And Mouse

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.

Happy New Year!

Early on what would prove to be the brightest part of the day, Jackie disappeared into the garden and returned with

a range of frosty photographs, each of which is identified upon accessing the gallery by clicking on any image.

By the time we drove out to Elizabeth’s to wish her a socially distanced

the weather was becoming quite gloomy. My sister rushed out with her mobile phone, took this photograph, and e-mailed it to me. We stuck the poster in her lawn, had a brief chat, and drove away.

Jackie then parked beside the old quarry lake which I circumperambulated with my camera.

Shattered sheets of ice filled puddles on the verges

and scattered over the reflecting surfaces of the larger body of water, along which mallards floated.

Hard underfoot, pony poo, passed for Pontefract cakes direct from the freezer.

According to Jackie, seated in the Modus while I wandered among their less pampered equine cousins,

an inquisitive quartet of be-rugged field horses gathered at their gate to see what I was up to.

I was engaged in photographing the hardier breeds feeding on grass and gorse.

This evening we dined on Jackie’s onion rice; tempura prawns; and chicken tikka, with which she drank more of the Rosé and I drank more of the Malbec.

In The Rain

Heavy, steady, rain fell throughout most of the day.

I photographed the scenes from indoors. The pendant in the rain spattered window was made for me by the daughter of a client some thirty years ago. The fallen pot was blown down. If there are any more we don’t want to know about it.

I looked down on the garden from upstairs.

Seen from our bedroom window, the puddle in the gutter outside our front drive is a good rain gauge.

At mid morning we left in the rain for a damp forest drive. I had expected simply to make photographs from the car. In the event I couldn’t help myself, so Jackie parked on the verge of Braggers Lane where I found raindrops spiralling in puddles; damp trees; and

damper field horses, some in rugs rooting around, I think for acorns – poisonous to them – in puddles behind barbed wire.

This evening we dined on Jackie’s cracking chicken stoup and crusty bread, followed by ample apple pie and custard, with which she drank Hoegaarden and I drank more of the Shiraz.

At The Trough

James Peacock of Peacock Computers spent most of the morning with me on the phone and at my desk resolving the banking/computer problems. Naturally this has been a great relief.

While James and I clicked on icons and stuff outside the kitchen door our nostrils were treated to the delicious aromas of Jackie’s lamb curry bubbling and steaming on the hob.

This afternoon, continuing what Jackie had begun this morning,

I watered a few pots and hanging baskets while she

chopped the ingredients for mushroom rice.

It was far too hot for any further gardening this afternoon, so we took a short drive into the forest.

A group of Highland Cattle were slaking their thirst in the cattle trough on Wootton Heath. The comments on https://derrickjknight.com/2013/02/27/why-did-the-chicken-cross-the-road/ give intriguing additions providing an explanation of how this London icon found its way into the New Forest.

Most other animals kept out of sight of the scorching sun, as we discovered when traversing

Bisterne Close, where sun dappled woodland scenes were all that was on offer for a photographer.

From Lyndhurst Road we could look down onto field horses, two of which wore masks protecting eyes and ears from irritating flies. As usual the galleries can be accessed by clicking on any image and viewing full size by clicking the box beneath each picture which may then be further amplified.

Photographic clues earlier in the post will make our dinner no surprise when I tell you we enjoyed

Jackie’s excellent spicy lamb jalfrezi with mushroom rice, with which she drank Hoegaarden and I finished the Carinena.

It was the Assistant Photographer who, dinners in our dishes, dashed out to photograph what she could see from the kitchen table. I would never have got away with it. The landscape format shows bronze fennel in the Pond Bed; the portrait, fuchsia Chequerboard.