landscapes – Page 17 – derrickjknight

A Footpath, A Carpet, And An Oak

This morning I encased my right knee in a crepe bandage and hobbled along Hordle Lane to the footpath alongside Apple Court Garden and back.

Now the leg has toothache. That’s it. My rambling will be done in my head until further notice.

The ditches are now pretty full, and pools still lie on the fields, although the tarmac no longer carries water.

As you walk along almost any lane in this area between the sea and the New Forest, each step provides a different view of the landscape. I have shown before how the wind sweeping across it tends to shape the direction of trees, particularly those in open spaces. The bent oak in the next three photographs demonstrates this point.

A thick pile white and green carpet lines the roadside alongside Apple Court Garden. Upon closer examination you discover that the woven woollen strands that form this covering are aptly named snowdrops threaded through the mulch of the undergrowth.

The footpath between the nursery and the neighbouring garden, with its greenhouse and birches, was rather waterlogged.

Jackie produced two different rice dishes, each of which was a meal in itself, for our dinner this evening. These were special fried, and mushroom versions. They were, however, accompanied by a rack of pork ribs marinaded in barbecue sauce, and followed by syrup sponge and custard. My lady drank Hoegaarden and i continued with the Bordeaux.

Ermine Trimming

By mid-morning overnight rain had cleared, making way for sunshine to give a fluffy ermine trim to the clouds over both our garden and the rest of the landscape which glistened with raindrops dripping into the pools and ditches. I took the same walk as yesterday as far as Vicarage Lane, this time crossing it to continue along Sky End Lane, turn right into Everton Road, and eventually right into Farmers Walk to Everton Nurseries where Jackie, having bought three Bishop of Llandaff dahlia tubers and various items of bird food, was finishing her coffee whilst waiting to drive me home.

As I splashed my way along the lanes, knowing that toads like this weather, I kept an eye out for a smiling one, but I was disappointed. The scudding clouds gradually dispersed overhead and buoyant bubbles eventually burst on the surface of the swollen ditches.

The first section of Sky End Lane is narrow and winding and consequently contains a number of reflective mirrors, one of which was crossed with cracks, rain having tarnished the exposed silvering.

A cock crew along Everton Road where smaller birds chirruped in the trees. and from the woods on the other side of Christchurch Road I think I heard a pheasant shoot. A white-haired woman wearing a bright red coat which reflected on the wet tarmac, with a small black terrier in tow, could be seen in the distance as I entered Farmers Walk. Because her female pet held her up every time she needed a sniff, it didn’t take me long to catch them up. We laughed about the animal’s doubling the time it took to walk along the lane.

This evening we dined at our neighbours, The Royal Oak pub. They were very full, for the first time since we have known the establishment. In just a month Carl and Debbie, the new tenants, seem to have turned it round, bringing in a number of local residents. I ate beef madras and profiteroles, whilst Jackie enjoyed a half rack of ribs and sticky toffee pudding (which wasn’t actually sticky) and custard. I normally avoid curry in a pub, because it can never match the real thing, but this one was rather good. Jackie drank Becks. My choice of beverage was Ringwoods fortyniner.

‘We’ve Seen This One’

After a domestic morning I attempted the woodland walk. Having negotiated the pools at the kissing gate entrance, I crossed the muddy field, where the lowering winter sun cast dazzling reflections from others between the brassica rows. The path through the woods was reasonably negotiable until the footbridge over the fast flowing stream, when it became increasingly muddy. Despite the nakedness of the trees, small birds, creating a cricket-like crescendo remained largely invisible, although zooming the seventh picture will reveal a few. On an uphill stretch a rhododendron shrub had fallen across a gravelled section. Briefly considering this prospect, I called it a day and returned home to finish our ‘Downton Abbey’ marathon by watching this year’s Christmas special. In ‘Downton Abbey’, Julian Fellowes has created a television masterpiece which deserves to run and run. So much has been written about this award winning series that I will not add to it, but I would like to write about our experience of it. Apparently you had to be living under a rock in order not to know about it in the last few years. Over Christmas, we found out why.

The programme has loosely, in the press and everyday conversation, been termed, simply, ‘Downton’. This gave our witty daughter, Becky, the opportunity to post on Facebook, when series five began, that she had just watched the first episode and her parents weren’t in it. ‘What’s going on?’ she exclaimed. Becky and Ian bought Jackie the complete boxed set for Christmas and she and Flo began watching it with us. Such was its appeal that we almost reached the end before the Emsworth family returned home a few days ago. Sometimes taking in three or four episodes a day, Jackie and I continued in their absence. This activity developed its own rituals. One concerned Isis’s bum. Isis was the beloved pet of the Earl of Grantham, played brilliantly by Hugh Bonneville. Every single one of the 42 normal episodes and the four Christmas specials began with the dog’s tail waving across the screen. This prompted a race to be the first, with a variety of jocularly exasperated or frustrated exclamations, to complain: ‘We’ve seen this one’. Jackie and I continued this practice even after Becky had returned home and changed her Facebook cover photo to:

For dinner this evening, roast potatoes and parsnips, Yorkshire pudding, and cabbage were added to Jackie’s beef and sausage casserole. Dessert was apple strudel and custard, and we each drank the same as yesterday.