lambs – derrickjknight

Why Did The Lambs Cross The Road?

After continuous heavy rain yesterday and overnight, this morning was largely overcast but dry when Jackie and I took an early forest drive.

While we queued at the Brockenhurst level crossing we were able to

see to our left evidence of a recently felled wide arboreal casualty.

Having driven under the A31 to Newbridge Jackie was forced to pull over to the verge as we came face to face with a hay bale carried by a

tractor on the narrow lane ahead.

There was already a stream flowing under a road bridge alongside Furzley Common, but today it was overflowing and bubbling as it splashed over a mossy bank that revealed exposed tree roots having received water’s erosive force for many years. The fifth, portrait, image in the gallery demonstrates a broken tree’s determination to regenerate. New ferns find themselves growing in water.

Marsh marigolds, otherwise known as kingcups, blended with yellow flag irises.

I was surprised that sheep grazing on the common, normally such inquisitive creatures, did a runner when I squelched across the soggy sward past long term decaying stumps in order to make their portraits.

Soon afterwards we encountered a foal attached to assorted shapes and sizes of ponies. It enjoyed licking the tarmac and scratching an itch, although hadn’t yet learned the technique of using a hoof for such relief.

Jackie photographed me in action, the various ponies, including the foal who wanted to enter the Modus, and another with its Dam further along the road.

Frisky lambs nipped across the road at Bramshaw to join an adult on the other side who

soon crossed back to where they had come from;

naturally they followed suit.

Here are Jackie’s three pictures of the sheep.

This evening we all dined on Jackie’s spicy penne pasta arrabbiata with parmesan cheese and tender green beans, with which she drank Hoegaarden and I drank more of the Bardolino.

Running Round The Haystack

After lunch Jackie and I took a drive out to Pilley and back.

We took the route where we knew there was a sheep field, hoping there might be lambs, and were rewarded by the usual inquisitive sheep bringing their offspring up to the wire beside my usual vantage point.

Around the corner into Burnt House Lane the creatures were far enough away for them not to be interested in me, the youngsters being far more engaged in chasing each other around the haystack and playing king of the castle; the dams getting on with the business of renewing their strength by cropping the grass.

While I was doing my best to photograph frolics, Jackie was studying a log with a peephole, and its accompanying daffodils.

Afterwards I watched BBC’s transmission of the Women’s Six Nations rugby match between England and Italy.

This evening we all dined on Hordle Chinese Take Away’s excellent fare with which Jackie drank Hoegaarden and I drank more of the Fleurie.

In The Nursery Field

Yesterday I received an e-mail stating that the probate grant application has been approved and I should receive it in 10 working days.

This morning I scanned six more of Charles Keeping’s excellent illustrations to my Folio Society edition of ‘Bleak House’.

‘Mrs Jellyby, in the midst of a voluminous correspondence’

‘She sat on a chair holding his hand’

In ‘Jo brought into the little drawing-room by Guster’ Keeping indicates he distance between elements of the scene by separating them with a little text.

‘Mr Squod catches him up, chair and all’

‘A street of little shops’

‘Miss Volumnia and the cousinship of the Nobodys’

This afternoon Becky and Flo went shopping and Jackie and I took a forest drive.

Sheep occupy a field about a mile along Christchurch Road heading west.

Newborn lambs suckle, frolic, and head butt in the nursery fields opposite. Today there were a number of twins, bearing the same identifying digits as their mothers.

It was quite a contrast to see two of the most massive porkers we’ve ever seen housed on Harpway Lane at Winkton.

Ponies grazed on the terrain outside Holmsley Walk Car Park;

the grey had just given the bay a resounding head bash before I took this shot.

Early this evening Flo burnt more slender twigs in the rusty incinerator.

This evening we dined on tender roast chicken; crisp roast potatoes and Yorkshire pudding; crunchy carrots ; firm Brussels sprouts, and tasty gravy, with which Jackie, Becky, and I drank the same beverages as yesterday and Flo drank elderflower cordial.

Garden Rescue

Today was fine and clear – perfect conditions for Elizabeth’s garden makeover.

On the way there we drove into Pilley along a lane dividing sheep from goats.

Jackie produced a few before pictures of the project before her battery died.

I photographed the work in progress, identification of the participants given in the galleries.

A splendid buffet lunch was provided by Danni, the Events Organiser, after which Isla mothered Jack.

Work, such as sawing up the fallen sumac and bed-making continued, while acrobatics were undertaken on the lawn.

It was then my battery’s turn to die, so Jackie and I returned home to recharge them both, after which we went back to Burnt House lane to join the others for Jackie’s chicken curry, savoury rice, samosas, and onion bahjis. Her delicious mixed fruit crumble was to follow, but I couldn’t eat anything more after the first course. I’m not sure who drank what, but I drank virtually non-alcoholic (0.5%) Adnams Ghost Ship.

I matched Jackie’s earlier before the work garden views with some afters.

Sampling A Dandelion

Early this morning Jackie hoovered the house and I swept the garden paths.

Barry and Karen visited us later, when we enjoyed coffee, cake, and convivial conversation.

“A wobble” has become Jackie’s term for a forest photo foray. It may have something to do with my gait. We went on one this afternoon.

As we turn off Roger Penny Way onto Cadnam Lane we cross a road bridge

over a stream which is very much drying out as a result of our recent paucity of precipitation.

I needed four photographs to cover the stretch of a huge recently fallen tree which, had it descended in the opposite direction would have damaged a nearby house,

seen beyond the evidence of an earlier toppled giant.

Older branches were now covered in bright green moss.

The bright sunshine of this warmer day cast shadows across last year’s autumn leaves and this year’s yellow celandines which also clung to the bank of the stream.

Further along Cadnam Lane we encountered a field full of recently yeaned ewes and their very young lambs.

A young man occupied himself with his mobile phone as he led his pony to its nearby paddock.

Tufts of wool bunting decorated the bramble hedges. Perhaps they had been shed by the mothers before confinement;

perhaps others on the road or in the neighbouring woodland.

Would anyone like to suggest a speech bubble for this squirrel, bearing in mind the creature has its mouth full?

It was another which dashed across the road.

Like all youngsters at this time this donkey foal sought new goodies to eat. We watched it sample a dandelion.

Maybe it was its Dad daring our Modus to come any closer.

This evening we dined on second helpings of yesterday’s casserole with boiled new potatoes; and a perfection of cabbage, carrots, and cauliflower. Jackie drank Hoegaarden and I finished the Red Blend.

Shopping During Lockdown

We were given to expect rain for much of the day. In the event the overcast clouds retained their moisture.

Soon after 9 a.m. we drove to Tesco Superstore in New Milton for our week’s shop.

I photographed the pink climbing rose on the front trellis.

The supermarket car park was almost full.

Jackie joined the queue that trailed around the back of the store. She tells me that all was quite orderly in the closely monitored establishment.

The woman with the trolley in the above picture was one of the majority

wearing neither gloves nor masks.

Some wore one or the other;

some sported both.

From my passenger seat I had plenty of time to study neighbouring cars’ special reflective effects, also including

this gentleman just arrived who hadn’t yet hoisted his face mask.

Jackie’s shop had lasted about 90 minutes. If we take that as an average

at least two gentlemen had waited a while for a pipe

or a cigarette.

One young woman had managed to procure Plenty toilet rolls.

Many of the fields along Christchurch Road are currently occupied by sheep and lambs. On our way home my Chauffeuse diverted along Lower Ashley Road where stopping for photography was possible.

As usual this aroused a certain amount of ovine curiosity.

Lower down the road a group of adults sheltered among trees around a serpentine stream.

Jackie had no sooner mentioned https://youtu.be/NeFqHXdXQyw

than these creatures turned tail and trailed off.

On the opposite side of Lower Ashley Road stands a pillbox, being a relic of World War II.

As Jackie observed, its presence shows how near we are to the coast. By 1940 there was a very real threat of a German invasion. These defence structures bearing slots for weaponry were intended to repel enemy forces.

This evening we dined on Jackie’s wholesome chicken, bacon, and vegetable soup served with crusty bread from the freezer. The Culinary Queen drank Hoegaarden whilst I drank Benguela Bay Shiraz 2018.

The Blue Coat

Suitably equipped for the fray

Jackie joined the queue at Tesco five minutes before opening time. She really felt for the woman in the blue coat.

The orderly social distancing exhibited outside the supermarket was somewhat belied by the few customers who reached past others to claim items they were afraid might disappear. Although we didn’t need any, Mrs Knight reported that toilet rolls were in stock.

Perhaps the fact that the fresh meat, fish, and deli counters were off limits enabled her to

feel relaxed about photographing sheep and lambs along Christchurch Road on her way home.

After watering the pots in the front garden this afternoon – the Head Gardener was to hose those at the back later – I took a trip to Honeylake Wood and back.

This involved walking along Christchurch Road past the closed Royal Oak pub, Downton Garage, Woods used car establishment, and a row of cottages, to the currently fallow field featuring a footpath to the wood.

Sandbags line the pub’s front porch, suggesting the management had not anticipated our current dry spell when the coronavirus closures were required.

This gentleman walking a couple of dogs

back to the kissing gate

was clearly complying with the request to keep canines under control.

Choosing to eschew the gate which others will have touched, I entered via a gap in the hedge beside the disused telephone box and the still active letter box.

I then walked along the edge of the field to the footpath.

Like most local fields this one is fenced by wind-sculpted trees.

The winding path through the wood

slopes down to a bridge over a stream. The photographs above indicate the fleeting nature of the shadow-casting sun. The bridge has been repaired since my last trip down here, but I did not lean on it for the same reason that I avoided the gate.

The banks of the stream were embroidered with gentle yellow primroses.

This evening we dined on chicken thighs of considerable size crisply roasted with potatoes and parsnips; Yorkshire puddings, carrots and spring greens, with which I drank Carinena El Zumbido Garnacha Syrah 2018. Jackie had finished her Hoegaarden while cooking.

“Let’s Scarper”

This afternoon we drove to Mudeford where

marauding gulls hadn’t yet given up scavenging from a fishing boat that had unloaded its catch. In an attempt to secure a better angle for photographing them I perched on the lip of a large container. What I hadn’t realised was that I would tip over onto the pool of water in the centre. I yelled a bit as I leaped off. This caused a couple seated on a nearby bench to move over for me. I expressed some hesitation about taking this lower seat on account of my knees. This prompted a discussion in which I acquainted the gentleman with what he was in for when his wait for his replacement was over.

A motor boat sped along the surface alongside the quay.

We drove on to the north west of the forest, taking this lane through Woodgreen, where

pairs of twins in a sheep field raced each other for their mother’s dugs.

The woodland at Hale Purlieu is owned by The National Trust. I wandered around it for a while, looking down over the neighbouring landscape occupied by a solitary white cow,

and noticed ants darting along their route across the criss-crossing tree roots beneath my feet.

This Red Bull can tossed onto a lane at Hale rested inches from the bluebells, stitchwort, and other wild flowers on the verges.

From my passenger seat I noticed that a quartet of deer were grazing among the ponies on the moors bordering Roger Penny Way. They occupied a slope beneath a ridge, rendering them out of sight when I disembarked to approach them. It was therefore with some trepidation that I gingerly crossed a dry ditch and made my way across pitted terrain, being unsure whether they would still be there when I was able to look further down. In fact they were still chomping away. Eventually, of course they got wind of me. Taking an alert pose I overheard their conversation in which they pointed out the interloper and discussed what to do. “Let’s scarper” cried one, and they rapidly disappeared into the landscape.

Ponies on the slopes ignored them.

New foals are becoming commonplace now. Here is one of today’s keeping up with its mother.

Back at home this evening we dined on cheese centred smoked mackerel fishcakes; creamy mashed potato; piquant cauliflower cheese; ratatouille, carrots and cabbage, with which Jackie drank Hoegaarden and I finished the Malbec.

Shared Pasturage

Although it was to brighten a little before we finished our trip into the forest this afternoon, it began very dull and overcast.

At Braggers Lane I disembarked from the Modus to focus on distant landscapes. The last two images include All Saints Church, featured in an earlier post.

Nascent bracken now towered above bluebells on the verge.

Horses grazed in the field opposite. One already wore an eye mask as protection against flies.

Generous assorted sheep and their little black lambs shared their pasturage with emus, ducks, and chickens in a field beside Fish Street. (Note Lwbut’s comment below. The large birds are Rheas)

While I focussed on the field, Jackie photographed the field behind me. at the far end of her vision two cows left their watering hole. One showed no interest, but its companion appeared to display some curiosity. The Assistant Photographer also created an image of the occupants of the field through a gap in trees beside the stream. The thatched cottage stands opposite the gate to the sheep field.

The road bridge provides a link between Fish Street and London Lane, alongside which whiter lambs were penned. This lane, along with many others, was permeated with the heavy, sweet, scent of oil seed rape seen in the distance in the first of the above pictures.

This evening we dined on Mr Pink’s fish and chips, pea fritters, and pickled onions. Jackie drank Peroni and I finished the Merlot Bonarda.

Stand-off

This afternoon our drive began at Keyhaven.

From the hill above the village we had a clear view across The Solent to the Isle of Wight. The mainland buildings are in the foreground. A solitary yacht passes the island.

At the bottom of the slope a field of black sheep introduced their very young lambs to life. Just two of the offspring were white.

A young cock pheasant face-off was under way at East End. Quite suddenly the more timid of the two turned and disappeared into the moorland,

leaving the victor to strut his stuff.

Casper, at East Boldre, enjoyed his own observation grill.

This evening we dined on Tesco’s finest fish pie; Jackie’s even finer piquant cauliflower cheese; crunchy carrots; tender peas and green beans. We both drank New Zealand’s The Quintet 2017.