CLICK ON IMAGES TO ENLARGE. THOSE IN CLUSTERS GIVE ACCESS TO GALLERIES THAT CAN BE VIEWED FULL SIZE.
This morning we drove to Milford on Sea to search out a door handle in the architectural salvage outlet there. The establishment was closed, so we consoled ourselves with
brunch at The Needle’s Eye Cafe. I enjoyed the Maxed up Breakfast while Jackie chose her customary jacket potato with cheese and beans.
Whilst a speedboat laid a trail across The Solent;
gulls squealed into the car park;
and intrepid sea fishers set up their rods;
the sun fought a losing battle with the indigo clouds over the Isle of Wight. Jesus beams provided the brush strokes to the cloudscapes and a slash of light on the water.
This evening we dined on Jackie’s tender beef stew, sauteed potatoes, and crisp carrots, cauliflower, and green beans. I finished the Fleurie and Jackie drank Hoegaarden.
CLICK ON IMAGES TO ENLARGE. THOSE IN GROUPS ACCESS GALLERIES THAT CAN BE VIEWED FULL SIZE.
Early this crisp and bright morning I walked around our sub-zero garden.
Except for this sheltered petunia,
all the plants were now frost damaged;
December haze hovered over the paths;
wood and metal harboured the white precipitation;
and the patio table bore memories of patterns found inside the winter morning bedroom windows of my pre-central heating childhood.
Jackie drove us to The Ship in Wiltshire’s Upavon, for a most enjoyable lunch with Frances.
The small grate, originally designed to take coal, now burned logs.
My choice of meal was fish pie, followed by apple and ginger trifle. Frances also opted for fish pie, while Jackie chose burger and chips. I drank Wadsworth’s 6X. That was our main meal of the day
Having passed Salisbury Cathedral on our return home, we turned off the High Road to look back at the splendid building. The frosted grass of the verges of the lane had seen no sun at all.
On home territory we diverted to Ferndene Farm Shop to buy a Christmas tree, then to Barton on Sea to catch the sunset.
The eye of The Needles lighthouse glowed white today.
CLICK ON GROUPED PHOTOS TO ENLARGE, AND TO VIEW FULL SIZE. JUST CLICK ON THE LARGER INDIVIDUAL ONES.
This morning my muse woke me with a start and uttered something about catching Dawn. What had Dawn done? I wondered. And who was she, anyway? Then it dawned on me. This was an invitation to watch a pink sky over the Isle of Wight. I prised myself out of bed, staggered into some clothes, and joined Jackie who was engaged in defrosting the car windscreen.
Down Downton Lane we hurtled, and came to an abrupt halt in the nearest coastal car park. I kept my eyes open long enough to operate the camera and totter back into the car.
The single baleful eye of The Needles lighthouse gave the impression that the Loch Ness Monster had moved house, and a solitary gull was up early.
This afternoon we shopped at Odd Spot in Burley
then went on driveabout. The oaks
opposite Longmead Farm have all but lost their leaves now.
Horses in the field now wear their rugs,
and a vast snuffling sow wandered out to investigate my activities.
Our return trip took us along Rhinefield Ornamental Drive.
This evening we dined on Jackie’s classic liver casserole, mashed potatoes, crunchy carrots and green beans. I drank water, and Jackie didn’t.
CLICK ON IMAGES TO ENLARGE. THOSE IN GROUPS GIVE ACCESS TO GALLERIES THAT CAN BE VIEWED FULL SIZE.
The car was repaired this morning and passed its M.O.T. test whilst it was at it. We therefore celebrated with a drive to Keyhaven and back.
The outward trip was via Barnes Lane and Milford on Sea.
The tide was far out. Without water on which to float, the damaged boat, Blue Dawn, lurched even more than it had a couple of days ago.
Hurst Castle, its lighthouse, and the recumbent hulk that is the Isle of Wight were all more clearly visible.
There were fewer birds about. Tinkling of the wind chimes in the yachts’ rigging replaced the honking of geese and the squabbling of seagulls.
Like a lofted shuttlecock, a helicopter whirred overhead.
Leaving Jackie in the car, I walked along the pebbled shore, past the paddling birds near the castle, and round the bend as the sea wall makes way for a coastal footpath.
Spotting a potential passage through the undergrowth to the promenade, I pushed through it. On the upper level I was warned off by a big beautiful beast. Scaling a slope with vociferous open jaws ahead of me and brambles encircling my legs, I was loath to miss a photo opportunity, although not in complete control of the framing. Clearly no stranger to the camera lens, my subject sheathed its fangs and adopted an angelic expression. My canine friend at last obeyed its master’s voice, and caught up with him and his more obedient companion, whilst I made my way back to the car in the opposite direction, there to
bid farewell to waders and gulls. The apparently preening cygnet is in fact a stray buoy.
It is fair to say that we had achieved our aim to see Keyhaven in a different light.
This evening we dined on lean beef burgers, new potatoes, and crunchy cauliflower, followed by blackberry, apple, and plum crumble with vanilla ice cream. I finished the Côte du Rhone.
CLICK ON IMAGES TO ENLARGE. THOSE IN GROUPS ACCESS GALLERIES WHICH CAN BE VIEWED FULL SIZE.
Today dawned dull and dry, so Jackie and I took an early drive to Keyhaven harbour and ambled along the sea wall.
Many boats were peacefully moored after the recent gales,
although one looked a bit of a wreck.
Except when silhouetted against the grey waters, well camouflaged wading birds, picking their way among pebbles and seaweed in the shallows, scuttled to and fro, pausing to probe promising crevices.
I can recognise swans and a cygnet,
and I am fairly confident that this is a redshank, and that many of the others will be the same, but for clear identification I will need a little help from my birding friends.
I imagine that these are more overwintering Brent geese that we saw at Lepe, but I am not sure. In the foreground of the landscape photographs are many more of our own waterfowl.
Quite a few birdwatchers walked along the wall with their dogs. Unfortunately there was evidence that some owners bring their pets out to empty them, as we put it.
Hurst Castle and its lighthouse were visible through the haze.
The website of this historic building tells us:
“The History of Hurst Castle
Hurst Castle is situated at the seaward end of the shingle spit that extends 1.5 miles from Milford-On-Sea. The end of the spit, only three-quarters of a mile from the Isle of Wight, and the views from the top of the centre keep are spectacular.
Hurst Castle was the perfect location to defend the western approach to the Solent. The castle was built by Henry VIII as one of a chain of coastal fortresses and was completed in 1544.
Charles I was imprisoned here in 1648 before being taken to London to his trial and execution.
The castle was modernised during the Napoleonic wars and again in the 1870’s when the enormous armoured wings were constructed. Two of the huge 38-ton guns installed in the 1870’s can be viewed in their casemates.
During World War II, Hurst was manned with coastal gun batteries and searchlights.
Since the castle has been opened to the public many more exhibits and exhibitions have been installed, including the Trinity House lighthouse museum.”
On our way from Keyhaven to Hurst Spit, Jackie spotted a pair of mittens fitted on the lichen-covered limb of a bare tree. Although the slow-growing pale green organism suggests that its host is fairly elderly, I think the gloves have not been placed there to keep it warm, but to alert the parents of a small child who now has cold fingers.
When we passed them earlier, the Isle of Wight and The Needles had been invisible. Just before noon, the emerging sun revealed them.
Steamed syrup pudding and custard followed Jackie’s spicy paprika pork with wild rice and green beans for our dinner this evening. She drank Hoegaarden and I drank Séguret Côtes du Rhone Villages, 2014.
CLICK ON IMAGES TO ENLARGE. THOSE IN CLUSTERS GIVE ACCESS TO GALLERIES WHICH CAN BE VIEWED FULL SIZE.
On a day of winds fit to threaten lingering autumn leaves like those on our crab apples, Jackie drove us to our GP surgery at Milford on Sea for our flu jabs (influenza vaccines).
Down at the coast, vociferous waves crashed onto breakwaters and rolled onto the shore and over the sea wall.
Even the gulls found huddling on the car park tarmac preferable to facing the buffeting elements.
Dramatic skies, seas, and lighting effects gave yet another perspective to the Isle of Wight and The Needles.
When I had my fill of being coated in salt water in the interests of my art, I rejoined Jackie in the car, and did my best to clean the camera lenses.
We then continued on to Friars Cliff beach where we brunched at the cafe.
Here the breakwaters also took a pounding,
but four walkers and a couple of romping dogs ventured onto the beach.
The smaller of the two dogs had a debate with its owner about whether it was possible to take refuge in the cafe. This somewhat obstructed my entrance.
This evening we dined on Jackie’s chicken marinaded in piri-piri and lemon; roasted vegetables, steamed cauliflower and Brussels sprouts, with mashed potato, I finished the madiran.
CLICK ON IMAGES TO ENLARGE. THE SMALLER GROUPS ACCESS GALLERIES.
Late this morning Jackie drove us to Lepe where we enjoyed a brunch in the cafe by the beach.
Gulls scavenged among the pebbles and the seaweed that proved there is a stronger wet smell than that of damp dog.
You see, the seaweed aroma pervaded the air so much that it swamped any scent of the dog that, dashing into the sea on the end of a telescopic leash; in a vain attempt to capsize the honking avian flotillas commandeering the surface of the water; became very wet indeed.
Upon enquiry at the Information centre, I learned that these noisy birds were Brent geese who regularly fly from Canada and Siberia to enjoy what they must experience as a summer holiday in Lepe.
There was a fair amount of shipping seen on the horizon,
and approaching the Isle of Wight, which formed the backdrop of a number of these photographs.
A container vessel passed a spit
along which. at low tide a group walked out to sea. I assume they were not aiming to walk all the way to the island.
A helicopter chugged overhead,
where, later, the next flock of geese arrived for their overwintering.
Work was being undertaken on a terrace of cottages on the slopes above the beach. These listed dwellings were built in 1828 to house coastguards employed to combat the centuries-old customs of smuggling and piracy. The building nearer the shore was the Watch House.
Driving past them led us to the corner of Inchmery Lane where, perched on the side of the cliff, stood a lighthouse,
overlooking a stretch of beach belonging to a wildlife preservation society.
Taking the left bend visible in the above photograph of the lane, we continued along it, catching glimpses of the sea through the trees on our left.
At Moonhill, on our way to Beaulieu, a pony feeding in the forest caught my eye. I made my way through the trees and caught his. As I set out to cross the road back to the car, an equine companion did the same on its way into the woods. This had the usual effect on the traffic.
A neat stack of felled tree trunks occupied a cleared area.
For our dinner this evening, Jackie supplemented our second sitting of the Chinese takeaway with her superb egg fried rice. I finished the cabernet sauvignon.
CLICK ON IMAGES TO ENLARGE; THOSE IN SMALLER CLUSTERS GIVE ACCESS TO GALLERIES.
Becky and Ian returned home at lunchtime. I spent the afternoon printing off a draft novel a friend has sent me, doing me the honour of seeking my opinion on the work.
We left the printer processing the last few pages and set off for Tanners Lane to witness the sunset.
Naturally we were obliged to take our time in the queue to the beach. Some of the ponies sported day-glo orange to make sure they were noticed.
While waiting for a clear path we observed the evening light on the Isle of Wight in the distance.
This glow lent lively colours to the beach and sea waters at high, lapping, tide; and, of course, the Island, The Needles, and the lighthouse.
One other photographer was abroad. Naturally we had a chat.
Eventually, the sun sank low enough for the Electric Light Show to begin.
Back home this evening, Jackie and I dined on her wonderful sausage casserole, mashed potato, and boiled carrots, cauliflower, and Brussels sprouts. I drank Mendoza Bodega Toneles malbec 2012.
CLICK ON IMAGES TO ENLARGE; SMALLER CLUSTERS GIVE ACCESS TO GALLERIES.
The four of us brunched today at Beachcomber cafe on the cliff top at Barton on Sea, within sight of The Isle of Wight and The Needles.
The day’s ever-changing light laid a haze over the ponies on Barton Common. Although these animals roam freely like any other New Forest pony, for their own protection, they are fenced along the road through to the coast.
Various walkers cast their shadows across the beach.
I am not sure of the purpose of the stationary working boat that rested on the sun-slashed ocean surface beneath the indigo skies.
The Beachcomber was as well patronised as usual; the food was good, and the service efficient and friendly.
Shortly before sunset I walked down Downton Lane and along the path through Roger’s fields. The sky bore a strangely sepia hue,
until the lowering sun set the cottages and fields alight,
and sent lightning flashes overhead.
This evening we dined on perfectly roasted lamb and potatoes; stuffing; crunchy cauliflower, carrots, and runner beans; gravy with lots of goodies, and mint sauce; followed by spicy pumpkin pie and cheesecake. Ian drank Peroni; the ladies, Australian white wine; and I finished the rioja.
CLICK ON IMAGES TO ENLARGE. THOSE IN CLUSTERS AFFORD ACCESS TO GALLERIES.
Late this bright, sunny, and chilly, morning, Becky and Ian, Jackie and I, motored to Steamer Point for brunch in The Friars Cliff Cafe.
Blue sky and cotton clouds reflected their hues in ocean stripes against the backcloth of the Isle of Wight and The Needles, as walkers strode out along the steps of Friars Cliff beach.
People basked in the sunshine, which was surprisingly warm;
enough for the cafe tables on the promenade to be well patronised.
Smaller beings slalomed their way among feet and shadows.
Becky led Scooby down to look at the water, but his attention became diverted by an elegant, waving, tail.
Even when seated at the outside tables many people discarded their coats, like a couple of boys who hung theirs on their scooters, equally superfluous to requirements on the shingle.
The group in the background of the picture containing the mobile phone user was just one of many at the water’s edge.
This evening the four of us dined on Jackie’s luscious sausage casserole, mashed potato and swede; crunchy carrots and Brussels sprouts; followed by the most appetising pumpkin pie I have ever tasted. The Culinary Queen attributes the success to an extra egg, evaporated milk, nutmeg, and cinnamon. She and Becky finished the sauvignon blanc, Ian chose Peroni, and I drank El Pinsapo gran seleccion rioja, 2011.
