Tag: lichen

Bejewelled Garden; Golden Skies; Flooded Fields

Once, late this morning, our overnight storm had subsided the sun and recent raindrops set the garden sparkling and reflecting.

These photographs were produced from inside and, except for the window panes, from above. All are named in the gallery.

This afternoon I made a good start on reading ‘The Leopard’.

We were enjoying late afternoon sunshine, so took a forest drive.

Cattle hogged the road at East Boldre,

where the low sun glowed gold,

and ponies grazed on the verge.

Sunset sheltered behind pines at Hatchet Pond.

The moorland and the tarmac bore much of our overnight rain, especially from the burst banks of Lymington River. One of the consequences of the number of potholes is that they cannot be seen when filled with water.

This young woman was more amused than hurt by her fall which must have been caused by such a sudden depth.

Here are my images of the flooded fields,

and cars spraying through the tarmac;

and here are Jackie’s of the fields.

This evening we dined on baked gammon; ratatouille; cauliflower cheese; sautéed cabbage, leeks, and red onions; carrots and broccoli, with which I finished the Côtes du Rhône Villages

Pheasant Face-Off

As we set out on a forest drive this afternoon grizzling rain added gentle tear-drops to the similar elements we have experienced over the last few days.

Along St Leonards Road many old trees with hollows in boles were decorated with tree fungus;

they stand atop mossy or stony banks;

and carry branches adorned with various lichen.

We have passed this decaying trunk many times since it was first broken by fierce winds some ten years ago.

All along the road more than four and twenty blackbirds flitted across

our path. This one sat posing on a fence post.

It was a solitary egret that flew off into the distance to settle fishing among reeds,

before we paused to watch a face-off feigning a jousting match between two cock pheasants.

A weak sun sent us on our way having briefly brightened branches against the otherwise slate-grey sky.

After more time spent with ‘The Brontës’, I dined with Jackie on her wholesome shepherd’s pie; boiled potatoes, cauliflower with its chopped leaves; Brussels sprouts, carrots and broccoli. The Culinary Queen drank Diet Coke and I drank more of the Merlot.

Still Taking It Easy

Last night before going to bed I watched the highlights of the second day of the second test match between England and Sri Lanka.

On this warm, gloomy-overcast day, to the accompaniment of a few neighbouring tweeting birds, largely silent bees, and an occasional distant barking dog, I toted my camera on two very short trips around the garden.

Along with her general pot refurbishment and general tidying

Jackie has planted up the bulbs bought yesterday;

her equipment bearing evidence of her labours. She suggests that the pig has moved itself towards the gate in readiness for the coming pannage season.

Beyond the recently planted iron urn extends the Gazebo and Brick Paths from Jackie’s weeded old well surround.

She has recently tracked down a replacement Summer Wine to replace one that died in the Rose Garden.

On Wednesday Martin worked hard clearing a space for it and planted it away from the original site because it is inadvisable to reposition one in the same spot.

Pink chrysanthemums; blue convolvuluses; white begonias, cyclamen, and antirrhinums are rivalled by the Nottingham Castle bench lichen.

We have all colours of Japanese anemone;

and dahlias;

other roses include Absolutely Fabulous and Lady Emma Hamilton.

The Rose Garden continues to flourish.

The rudbeckias sit well behind the pinkish peeling eucalyptus bark.

The Weeping Birch Bed leads through the cryptomeria to Florence sculpture on Fiveways.

More Japanese anemones photobomb the Brick Path and blend well with the iron urn’s pink petunias.

This evening we dined on succulent chicken Kiev; boiled new potatoes; firm carrots, cauliflower, and broccoli; and tender chopped cauliflower leaves with which I drank riserva privada Chilean Malbec 2022.

Not Yet March

Before the rain returned for the day, a walk round the garden this grey, finger nipping, morning revealed

a good selection of camellias in a range of pinks;

plenty of flourishing lichen;

many still flowering snowdrops;

fallen leaves supported by Angel’s Wings;

dancing daffodils;

sheltered cyclamen;

mossy logs;

some hellebore heads held high;

even a bee clinging to clematis Cirrhosa Freckles.

Soon after 2 p.m. when we drove to Walkford for niece Jane’s 40th birthday party at Shelly and Ron’s, essential headlights bejewelled golden droplets in waves thrown up by other vehicles splashing through the increasing puddles, still more swollen by the incessant deluge on our return three hours later. We enjoyed a range of sandwiches, quiches, and other plentiful snacks; and a birthday cake made by Shelly. We enjoyed catching up with the various family members. A variety of beers and wines was on offer. No further sustenance was required later.

Rescued From The Rain

On this dreary but dry morning, developing on our way home into a dreary wet one, Jackie and I combined a successful search for open provision stores with a forest drive.

It was not until we reached South Gorley that a group of soggy ponies presented us with photo opportunities. The last two pictures, in front of the red house, are Jackie’s.

Two friendly equestriennes with an accompanying guide, smiled and passed on.

There wasn’t much more sign of life on this first day of 2024, until the Assistant Photographer spotted a group of deer through hedges in the vicinity of Gorley Common, and produced the first five pictured in this gallery, after which I managed the last three.

Jackie also photographed a lichen laden tree limb.

Ian had returned home to Southbourne shortly before lunch.

This afternoon Jacqueline visited with her son, our nephew James and his daughter, our great niece Illiari. Of all the stories of reminiscence the this visit promoted, the most amazing was told by Becky.

One day of driving rain late in 1997 or early ’98, covered head down as she struggled in a bus queue to gather tiny Flo and manage to enter the public transport vehicle, a young man with a child just a year older than hers left his place and helped her onto the bus. He, too, had his head down, so neither recognised the other. When they straightened up for Becky to thank him, her mouth fell open as she cried “James!”. Her cousin was equally stunned as he recognised his own similar relative. Illiaria was incubating chicken pox at the time. About ten days later Flo came out in spots.

The two young children had not seen each other again until today. The header picture is of James when he was just a little older than was Illiari on the day in question.

This evening we dined on succulent roast chicken thighs; crisp Yorkshire pudding; creamy mashed potato; crunchy carrots; firm cauliflower, broccoli, and Brussels sprouts, with which Jackie drank Hoegaarden and I drank Zinfandel USA 2021.

Freckles (2)

On third successive day largely overcast but cooler I took a walk round the garden to see what I could find.

Trees were silhouetted against the midday sky, while birds flew overhead.

A few flattened limp leaves had succumbed to the cold.

Apart from the winter flowering Cirrhosa clematis “Freckles”, enjoying a brief moment of sunlight,

the nearest to prolific flowers was represented by the increasing lichen on the Nottingham Castle bench.

The peach climbing rose photographed a couple of days ago is past its peak but has a few buds waiting to take its place; the pink Generous Gardener bravely persists, as do yellow Absolutely Fabulous, Festive Jewel, and another pale pink climber.

In addition we have pansy-like violas, out of season hebes, bacopas, penstemon, and hydrangeas.

This evening we all dined on second helpings of last night’s Chinese takeaway meal with added spare ribs. Jackie drank more of the White Zinfandel, and I finished the Carménère.

Sunshine And Showers Today

Before this morning’s first shower descended I carried out a session of rose dead heading. Shirt sleeves kept me warm enough.

After a heavy spattering on our roof I introduced my lens to the sun briefly flirting with scudding cloud clusters.

Raindrops on various blooms and a few garden views came into view. The day, much of which I spent nearing the end of the second volume of Richard Church’s autobiography, continued with more overcast skies than with sunshine.

This evening we all dined on succulent roast pork with perfect tooth-testing crackling; crisp Yorkshire pudding and roast potatoes; crunchy carrots; firm broccoli and cauliflower; tender runner beans and spinach; and meaty gravy, with which Jackie drank more of the Lieblich and I drank Hacienda Uranus Garnacha Old Vines, 2020.

Clean Air Blooms

This morning, after mending the wooden side gate,

Martin continued working his way along the West Bed. He cut back dead plant stems, weeded, and dug up brambles and other such invaders, bagging them for burning when the weather is dry enough.

I wandered around photographing garden views and flowers, each of which is entitled in the tiled gallery.

Perhaps the most pleasing flowers are those fashioned by the lichen clinging to the Nottingham Castle bench. This replica has travelled with me for three decades in various residences from Newark to Downton via London. As a tribute to the clean air of the forest this is the first home in which it has scattered its blooms.

I spent the afternoon on picture recovery of:

I recategorised the second as Garden.

This evening we all dined on Jackie’s wholesome chicken and vegetable stewp and fresh baguettes, with which Jackie drank Hoegaarden and I finished the Shiraz

Ready For Spring

In bright, warm, sunshine this morning Martin cleared more of last year’s dead garden material.

Here he works around the patio and Dead End Path;

The Pond Bed is now ready for new growth,

such as the tree peony in the Palm Bed, to emerge.

Daffodils, for example the tête-à-têtes, are really proliferating.

Summer and Autumn seasonal statues continue to gather lichen,

while Florence casts her shadow across the Shady Path.

Hellebores are beginning to hold up their heads; berberis, sometimes somewhat nibbled lingers on; and a hyacinth which began life in a gift pot returns year after year.

This afternoon, I facilitated enlargement and provided header pictures for the following posts:

Eureka!
Beyond Rancid
The Knocker
Along The Shingle

Essentially what I am doing with these Classic Edits is converting them to Blocks.

Elizabeth visited this afternoon toting a large bag of very good clothes for Ellie which had once served Ella or Jack. She stayed for cups of tea and conversation including swapping recommendations of TV programmes.

Later the rest of us dined on flavoursome pork bangers and creamy mash with tender cabbage, crunchy carrots, fried onions, and meaty gravy. Jackie drank Hoegaarden and I drank more of the Shiraz.

Cutting Back

After lunch I recovered pictures and substituted feature images for the following posts:

The Mud Map
Ratatouille
Boiling Hankies

His waterproof hooded jacket glistening from fairly steady light rain Martin had spent the morning cutting back last year’s dead garden material.

In order to improve the view from our kitchen window,

he began with the Pond Bed.

As will be seen from a few views I photographed on a walk round the garden, there is much more to be done.

Pearly drops slowly slid from camellias

and hellebores.

Tête-à-têtes and snowdrops happily co-existed, and

the lichen on the Nottingham Castle bench continued to celebrate the purer air of its last resting place.

This evening we dined on succulent roast chicken; sage and onion stuffing; boiled new potatoes; crunchy carrots; firm broccoli and cauliflower; tender green beans; and tasty gravy, with which Jackie drank Diet Coke and I drank more of the Malbec.