mist – derrickjknight

A Knight’s Tale (116: A Ploughing Contest)

On the misty morning of 26th September 1992 I produced a set of photographs of a ploughing contest in Southwell in Nottinghamshire. I could not find the negatives, so I scanned the prints. These images were in such good condition that I had no adjustments to make.

Most of the contestants were very skilfully handling horse-drawn ploughs. The powerful animals were splendidly tacked.

Those tractors that were in operation were not as well-equipped as those of today.

The Abbey Life cart became stuck in the mud. Watching the efforts to free it, I thought it unfortunate that all the heavy horses were otherwise engaged.

Jessica, Michael & Heidi, Ploughing contest 26.9.92 013

Jessica, Michael, and Heidi could be seen in the sparse distant crowd, and nearer at hand.

Atmospheric

Early this morning Jackie wandered around the garden photographing

the overnight frost

and misty garden views.

Later we shopped at both Tesco and Lidl, by which time the mist and intermittent periods of sunshine had both lessened. We continued into the forest in search of more atmospheric scenes.

Grey ponies dotted the hazy moorland landscapes flanking Burley Road, where

skeletal trees were silhouetted against the rapidly changing cloudscapes.

The ancient steep viridescent verges alongside the hollowed out Charles’s Lane gathered bright green moss and ivy. Tall trees slipped into the

periodically descending mist, and the sun was once more a graven orb.

This evening we dined on Jackie’s spicy paprika pork and savoury rice with which she drank Hoegaarden and I drank more of the Fleurie.

Gift Boxes

This morning’s early mist demanded a dressing gown trip into the garden to photograph the rising sun drawing dripping droplets from the damp atmosphere while the early birds shivered in the still naked copper beech.

On the opposite side of Christchurch Road a thick heap of sand spilled by trucks from the gravel quarry further along the thoroughfare has now provided ample bedding for grass and dandelions. Some of the flowers have strayed over to our side. Later on, I made their eradication the first of my minimal weeding and clearing to compost.

My blogging friend Alys, from https://gardeningnirvana.com is a clever and devoted craftsperson. In response to a recent post of hers

I mentioned Jackie’s gift boxes made from

cherry tomato trays. Here, Alys, is the kit and the process.

Having first eaten the tomatoes, take six of the small trays. The pegs help the assembly which is glued in place,

the last tray providing the lid.

Actually Jackie began by making gift tags, then realised she could make the boxes.

This evening we dined on Jackie’s flavoursome sausages in red wine; creamy mashed potatoes; tender cabbage; crunchy carrots and cauliflower, with which she drank Hoegaarden and I drank Les Aumoniers Ségurat Cotes du Rhone 2019

Christmas Covid-Cancelled, Collecting Easter Eggs

Today we took an early lunch and drove to Tesco for our big shop. As usual I sat in the car, Jackie did the business, and I intended to read my book. After one page my sister, Jacqueline, phoned me and that was the end of the reading.

In fact Tesco wasn’t too difficult, so the Caterer in Chief wouldn’t let me unload the shopping into the car for Covid safety’s sake.

We took a diversion round Holmsley Passage and its misty, frosty, landscape on our way home.

As I wandered, fingers and toes tingling, I discerned just one group of grazing ponies.

Others, on Holmsley Road

and Wootton Common were nearer at hand. One, as soon as I paid it any attention, huddled against its companion seeking security.

A weak sun, putting in an appearance over Hordle Lane, silhouetted a number of oaks.

Undeterred by the fact that we are still consuming provisions bought in for Covid-cancelled Christmas, Jackie had made her first Easter egg purchases.

This evening we dined on more of Jackie’s perfect spicy pork paprika; boiled potatoes; firm carrots and cauliflower; and tender runner beans, with which she drank Hoegaarden and I finished the Malbec.

A Visible Contrast

The Needles foghorn beckoned us all the way to the coast at Barton on Sea this morning. All other sounds were muffled by clouds of tiny water droplets known as mist.

We took the route through Angel Lane where Jackie parked the Modus and I photographed

misty scenes

and more visible views of the banks of the ditch.

The silhouettes of the few dog walkers on the clifftop at Barton could not have contrasted more with the many enjoying yesterday afternoon’s sunset.

After visiting the pharmacy at Milford on Sea we progressed to Keyhaven harbour where there was not much to be seen:

Bob Barnes reflected in the first picture, a fisherman, gulls, swans, and a few boats.

Later, I was able to photograph Bob and his reflection once more as we engaged in a socially distanced conversation beside

a memorial bench to Peter and Dorothy Thomas. Our discussion was recorded by Jackie, who also photographed

walkers on the spit, the yacht club, a bird on a wire, and a pair of preening mallards.

Another dog walker approached Pennington Lane as we passed on our way to

Boldre’s Saint John the Baptist Churchyard on Church Lane.

Field horses grazed beneath the graveyard, where, above the soil, a mossy, decomposing stump gradually merged with the soil beneath which humans from days gone by engaged in the same process.

This evening we dined on toothsome roast gammon; golden creamy mashed potatoes; pure white cauliflower; and most moist ratatouille, with which Jackie drank Hoegaarden and I drank Recital 2018.

Double Yellow Lines

Steady, light, rain seeped from slate skies throughout the day.

This morning Jackie worked in the greenhouse while I ironed, read, and photographed raindrops on

our unidentified peach rose,

wallflower Sugar Rush Purple,

and a tiny primula.

This afternoon Jackie drove us to Keyhaven.

You may be forgiven for thinking that this is a picture of yachts moored in the harbour. In fact it is a photograph of Hurst Castle in the mist beyond them.

Here are a few more boats and buoys;

a silhouetted walker rounding the sea wall;

and some mizzled (it’s a Cornish word, WP) landscapes.

Saltgrass Lane is normally closed when flooded. Today ducks swam on the waterlogged flats;

a murky gull flew overhead;

another hazy walker could be glimpsed on the spit; and other waterfowl extended their search onto the shallow spate.

Intrepid turnstones contemplated shifting these boundary boulders,

and investigated the possibility of lifting the saturated tarmac.

A solitary swan swam along the cambered verge,

occasionally pausing to slake its thirst.

Note the double yellow lines indicating that parking in this road is forbidden at all times. Swans have diplomatic immunity.

This evening we dined on smoked haddock fillets; cod fishcakes in parsley sauce; piquant cauliflower cheese; Dauphinoise potatoes and a splash of colour from orange carrots and green runner beans. Jackie drank Hoegaarden and I drank Breede River Valley Pinotage 2017.

Misty Morning

Having slept much of yesterday, my head was much clearer today, although I was still rather wobbly.

However, I did manage couple of short walks in the garden. The first was before the sun emerged.

Cars drove with headlights on Christchurch Road; grey skies hung over the garden; yet I was still able to find reasonably lit flowers.

Later as the sun emerged, Jackie removed her protective covers from her more tender plants; more flowers were well lit; and the sun’s rays striated the clouds of mist.

This afternoon I settled down to watch the Six Nations rugby matches between France and Scotland, and between England and Wales.

This evening we dined on small supermarket chicken jalfezis – just what I could manage.

Catch

We have been invited to a special meal in celebration of the 30th anniversary of

our favourite local Indian restaurant. Unfortunately this is tomorrow – less than a month since my knee replacement surgery. We therefore cannot manage it. This morning, featuring the above photograph, we made a card for Raja and his staff and placed in the post on our way to my physiotherapy appointment with Claire at New Hall hospital.

Progress is very encouraging. Both walking and flexibility are a great improvement on the first operation last May. I just wouldn’t have been able to sit comfortably at the restaurant tables.

The day, as evidenced in my photographs, was dismally damp and misty.

Even mistletoe was unable to brighten the lane through Bodeham,

Dripping snowdrops were more successful.

Mallards and a moorhen didn’t mind the weather over this stretch of the River Avon,

where an egret (I think) wandered and a cormorant (I think) watched from a treetop.

A circling kite was occasionally glimpsed above the naked trees.

Woodgreen Common was rather obscure.

As we headed towards Godshill we witnessed exciting catching practice. A gentleman playing frisbee with a circular ring skimmed it through the air where his triumphant dog leapt to catch and return it.

Someone had left a cap on a bench overlooking what would have been a splendid view in better light. The Godshill road itself was so shrouded in mist that a recently fallen tree was barely visible.

Fog lights were essential on the high risk (of animal deaths) Roger Penny Way, where some impatient drivers continued to follow the 40 m.p.h. speed limit.

This evening we dined on an excellent takeaway meal from New Forest Tandoori. My choice was king prawn madras with special fried rice; Jackie’s was prawn curry with pilau rice. We shared a paratha. I drank sparkling water and Jackie didn’t.

Why Did The Pheasant Cross The Road?

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Yesterday evening we enjoyed the usual excellent food and friendly efficient service in the perfect company of Elizabeth, Danni, and Andy, at Dynasty Indian restaurant in Brockenhurst. This family grouping is always full of stories, fun, and catching up with current events. So it was then.

When John Keats penned his immortal line ‘Season of mists and mellow fruitfulness’ he was not thinking of Spring. This morning, one could have been forgiven for thinking so. Well, at least the ‘mists’ image. As I stood peering into the film covering Lymington River, a gull winged its way into view, alighted on a circular yellow buoy, and quickly sped off again.

Reed beds

I crossed the road and leant on a rail chatting to a little family who were on their way to the quay for a crabbing expedition. I was able to tell them about the reed beds, and thatching. One little girl told me that her Mummy had a coat like my jacket. “Well, it’s red. But longer”, she added.

Cyclists

On leaving Lymington we followed a pair of cyclists up the hill towards the east. These two had the good sense to stay in single file and on our side of the road. We are accustomed to and accepting of this. Whilst I can fully understand the joy of cycling for exercise, I cannot fathom why anyone would charge around bends on our narrow lanes two abreast. This happened twice today. On the second occasion a large group was involved. Fortunately our vehicle is a Modus, not a large lorry.

Donkeys were just about visible at Tanner’s Lane. Three grazed in the field against the backdrop of a burgeoning rape crop; another pair chomped on dry seaweed on the shingle.

An angler in a boat would not have been able to see the Isle of Wight behind him; a black-headed gull floated nearer the shore.

As we drove away from the beach, a decidedly grey pony, deviating at the last minute, headed straight for us.

Fat pheasants wandered quite leisurely around this area. Why, we wondered, would one decide to cross Sowley Lane?

Ah. There’s the answer.

Bright purple aubretia lit up the ancient stone wall alongside the ruins of St Leonard’s granary, beside which

drowsed representatives of the usual group of ponies. Before the rains set in, the chestnut against the rusting fence rails would not have been able to enjoy admiring its mirrored image. What, perhaps, these photographs cannot display is the absolutely still silence conveyed by these creatures.

Only the tiny Falabella raised an eyebrow as I approached.

This afternoon a smiling sun warmed the garden from a cloudless blue sky.

This evening we dined on smoked haddock fish cakes, piquant cauliflower cheese, mashed potato and swede, and carrots and broccoli, with which I finished the Comino Nuevo.

Wait For Us

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This morning Jackie and I kept our appointment with Neils Dagless of Dagless and Whitlock. He witnessed our signatures on the mortgage documents. There was no charge for his service, but we were asked for a donation to the Oakhaven Hospice. We were happy to do this.

Becky and Ian, who had stayed the night, returned home after lunch. Matthew, Tess, and Poppy will remain with us until tomorrow.

Later this afternoon we posted the papers to O’Neill Patient in Stockport, then drove into a dank and dismal forest.