Fire And Flood

Once again coinciding with a drop in outside temperature our boiler ceased functioning yesterday. We have a service booked for Thursday, 19th. and will manage until then.

With no Christmas decorations now wishing to remain undisturbed all round the fireplace and mantelpiece, we decided to light

the open fire in the sitting room.

We therefore drove to Streets in Brockenhurst to purchase coal, logs, firelighters, and two hot water bottles.

After a long spell of overnight rain there is normally a narrow puddle in the gutter outside our front entrance. Today this almost reached the middle of Christchurch Road and a long way down it.

As we watched other vehicles sailing past, and dodged their spray while waiting for a gap for us to enter the road and turn right, little did we know how much further flooding we would encounter.

The rest of the A337 stimulated spray waves at numerous locations.

For the first time in our decade here, the ford at Brockenhust was closed to traffic, the stream presumably being too deep for safety.

The lawn beside Meerut Road had become a reflective lake;

as had Balmer Lawn because its stretch of Highland Water

had burst both banks, its fast-moving currents sending squirming logs on their way until caught by other obstacles.

This evening we dined on barbecue spare ribs with Jackie’s flavoursome savoury rice. I drank more of the Syrah. The others didn’t.

A Windblown Neck Scarf

After a morning shop in Tesco we took a brief forest drive.

The dryer day fanned by a gentler breeze was illuminated by, albeit short, sunny spells.

For about three months, along a stretch of Christchurch Road where it is impossible to stop the car without causing chaos, we have hoped to photograph two lengths of corrugated iron. Today Jackie parked on the drive beside a closed farm gate and I was able to look back to a

long piece wrapped round the branch of a tree like a neck scarf blown by one of our gale force winds; the other is buried in a hedge and out of sight from this viewpoint.

The rippling, reflective, and effervescent stream at Wootton Bridge now flows fast

and laps the bases of mossy-rooted trees.

Ponies, like these at Bisterne Close, have ventured out into the woodland since the recent deluge.

This evening we dined on tender roast lamb; boiled new potatoes; cheese vegetable bake; firm Brussels sprouts and carrots, and meaty gravy, with which I drank more of the Shiraz and Jackie drank Montes Reserva Chardonnay 2020.

Rippling, Reflecting, Pools

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The ground may still be wet, but at least the rain had ceased today.

Martin was able to make progress on widening the step in front of the French windows, and

planning the layout of the paving, some of which he will cut to shape and size.

Jackie and I took a short drive into the forest where there was little sign of wild life.

Field horses were mostly sporting muddy rugs as

they sloshed around like these two at their gate.

Trees rooted in scooped out basins beside Beaulieu Road stand in rippling, reflecting, pools as is customary for them in rainy seasons.

This evening we dined on a choice of tasty penne Bolognese or beef casserole, with firm broccoli and tender green beans. Jackie and I chose the Bolognese, Becky enjoyed a bit of both, Flo and Dillon will take theirs later. The Culinary Queen and our daughter drank Buck’s Fizz while I drank Calvet Prestige Côtes du Rhône Villages 2021, given to me for Christmas by Martin.

Veritable Lakes

This being New Year’s Day there were very few vehicles on the road when we set off into the forest. The temperature was cooler, but the gloom was at least dry, which is more than can be said for the moorland and woodland, such as that alongside

Holmsley Road, which had become a veritable lake reflecting now naked trees, where, despite the stillness of the air, ripples quivered spasmodically into a life of their own.

Gorseacre’s Private Driveway sign now functioned as a water level gauge, while posts placed to deter parking floated away.

Groups of competitors pushed their trolleys across the somewhat drier Burley golf course.

Damp ponies

were reflected in scooped out basins alongside Burley Road.

This evening we dined on Jackie’s succulent cottage pie; firm carrots, cauliflower, and Brussels sprouts; and tasty grav, with which I finished the Kruger Elements.

A Meeting of Cousins

This morning Jackie and I shopped for lunch items at Tesco and continued for a short forest drive.

The now fast-flowing stream bridged by Church Road bubbled, rippled, and reflected the adjacent waterlogged woodland.

I wondered whether the young equestrian we followed for a while had been given his horse for Christmas.

Danni, Ella, and Jack visited today, keen to meet their “new baby”, as Ella, clutching her Foxy, termed Ellie. Our great niece and nephew were very attentive and gentle with our great granddaughter throughout the visit.

Ella normally makes straight for the toy box in the library; today her first wish was to engage with Ellie. The toys had to wait.

Ellie was content to spend time with Danni and her children.

Eventually Ellie needed to be settled upstairs and the others amused themselves in various ways.

Despite appearances, Jack thoroughly enjoys his mother’s squidging.

Jackie provided her trademark cold meats and salad buffet, of which there was more than enough for the rest of us to graze on later, once Elizabeth, Danni, Ella, and Jack had returned to their respective homes.

In the meantime we all settled down to a restful time while Danni read to Ella and Jackie kept Jack occupied with her computer.

Hung Out To Dry

Early this morning Jackie stocked up with provisions at Ferndene Farm Shop while I sat in the car, then continued into the forest via

Beckley Common Road, which, like all lanes on this decidedly damp, drear, day bore reflecting pools along the verges,

and soggy autumn leaves there

and in the bordering woodland, where someone had hung

a pair of toys out to dry.

Equally damp were the ponies foraging alongside Forest Road.

Distant landscapes, as, for example, visible from Wilverley Road, were distinctly hazy.

Martin and his younger son, Arlo, visited briefly at lunchtime to deliver a Christmas card with a warm message, and beverages for Jackie and for me selected from information gleaned on this blog.

This evening we dined on more of Hordle Chinese Take Away’s excellent fare with which I drank Gran Selone Italian red wine.

A Deserted Beach

I have been struggling against a heavy cold for three days. It was not until after lunch today that my coughing, spluttering, sneezing, and leaking nose had dried, and my dull head cleared adequately for me to accept the offered forest drive from Jackie. Yesterday I had declined.

It was therefore a shock to step out just after lunch into a gloomy day with a temperature just two degrees above freezing. Winter had crept up.

Although it is Sunday, there was very little sign of life.

The seasonal roadside pools, reflecting overhead branches, like these at East Boldre, are all now replenished; autumn leaves floating on their surfaces and scattered over the sward.

The narrow, winding, Tanners Lane with its ancient hedgerows exposing banked roots is, in warmer weather, popular enough for us to avoid the difficulty of finding a safe parking spot without slipping into a ditch.

The owners of this field have ensured, by blocking the entrance, that it will not be used as such.

This was therefore the perfect day for us to enjoy unhindered access to the beach with its views of the Isle of Wight.

A line of shore birds searched for food along the shallows of the tidal Lymington River.

This evening’s dinner consisted of Jackie’s spicy chilli con carne and rice, with which she drank Hoegaarden and I started another bottle of the Gran Selone before settling down to watch the World Cup football match between England and Senegal.

Like Minded Photography Enthusiasts

We drove through a deluge to shop at Lidl this morning. I began photographing raindrops on the car windows. Suddenly the skies cleared to make room for the sun, and while Jackie made the purchases I photographed the car park, and abandoned raindrops on windscreen.

Autumn leaves floated on the pools reflecting vehicles and overhead branches.

The now familiar fat raindrops, still dripping from the trees sent out their ever increasing circles on the surfaces of those deeper areas avoided by drivers

and passing shoppers pushing trolleys.

Rainwater streaked the trunks of ornamental trees.

This couple turned out to be Cherry and Rob, like-minded photography enthusiasts, with whom I enjoyed a delightful conversation swapping details of similar subjects we favour. Cherry had dropped one of her bags, which she had gathered up by the time

she reached a deeper pool.

Cloudy blue skies and the weak sun peeping through skeletal branches need only out of focus surface leaves to reveal their mirror images nature.

We had intended to follow with a forest drive, but I knew I had more than enough photographs in the Canon. As it is, I forced myself to cull 50%.

Along with the links to these pictures, SueW sent me one to

her straightened picture of my painting featured yesterday which I have added to that post.

This evening we dined on Jackie’s flavoursome chicken and vegetable stewp with fresh bread, followed by bread and butter pudding, with which she drank more of the Sauvignon Blanc and I drank more of the Malbec.

Replenishment

The recent heavy rains have suddenly filled the drought-dried lake at Pilley. This prompted me to circumperambulate it on our forest drive this morning.

Fresh autumn leaves floated among rippling reflections or

broken limbs from their trees,

or lay visible on the shallow bed;

Mallards, glimpsed through overhanging lichen covered branches and their lingering foliage, have reclaimed their natural habitat.

Some of the leaves cluster among mini mushrooms between mossy or

exposed roots and bark flakes from fallen trees on the water-lapped banks.

This evening Jackie and I joined Shelly, Ron, Helen, and Bill at Fordingbridge for the latter couple’s church fundraising quiz night. Helen provided sandwiches, mince, pies, gala pie, crisps, salad and wine; Ron brought beer. We had a very enjoyable time with good natured competition, at which we came third.

On our journey home the steady rain accompanying our outward trip had developed into a deluge, in which the rhythmic whirring of our windscreen wipers could not clear the shield of raindrops that became twinkling stars above parallel columns of light stretched along the tarmac before the headlights of each oncoming vehicle, while our own beams illuminated the fanned curtains of spray thrown up by our wheels from pools across the road to rival the swollen lake seen this morning.

Rhinefield Ornamental Drive

We had intended to photograph Beechern wood on our forest drive today. This has been one of our regular trips.

It was a shock to find a locked gate across the road forbidding access to non-members of the Caravan Site at the far end. The woman approaching the Forestry Commission gate had left the camper van and opened it for the driver. Who, I wondered, owned the road from which I have produced many photographs of woodland, ponies, and Ober Water.

We diverted to Whitemoor Pond, over which stretches this

branch with flaking bark;

a number of trees were reflected on the shimmering surface

on which fallen leaves float above the clearly visible bed.

From there we drove on to the Rhinefield Ornamental Drive along which I took

a short walk amongst others along the now soggy footpath.

Although it wasn’t at all cold, most were wrapped up, and this gentleman clearly need to raise his collar.

This friendly family were very pleased with this photograph showing their dog really straining at the leash. I could not resist asking who was taking who for a walk.

Fallen leaves clustered at the roots of trees,

even of long-dead stumps.

At Wimbledon College, we were once taught by an art master who told us that trees were never just brown. These trunks were obviously what he meant.

We are now recognising so many fallen giants in the forest that we are able to follow their journey back to the soil from which they sprung. We passed this one a few years ago when it had just been snapped by fierce winds and quickly sawn and removed from the road. Its constituents will probably outlive ours.

Over recent months my library has been taken over by items destined for charity shops and the Council Recycling Depot. This has been a losing battle as further goods have appeared as fast as we declutter – one of the consequences of an increased household with many relatives being keen to bring gifts. Now Christmas items are being added at a rate of knots. This afternoon Jackie and I cleared and organised the space so that I can once again reach individual volumes.

This evening we dined on tasty fish cakes: haddock for me, cod for Jackie, and salmon for Flo; crunchy carrots and tender cauliflower leaves; the Culinary Queen’s piquant cauliflower cheese and colourful savoury rice, accompanied by the same beverages as yesterday.