Tag: rippling stream

Autumn Has Arrived

Today’s culling involved a few pictures from April 1969 – not these of Elizabeth feeding Matthew.

This afternoon we took forest drive.

Autumn leaves still clung to the trees along Holmsley Passage, where a few holly berries hung and trees were reflected in the rippling stream bubbling under the ford.

On Bisterne Close a mere handful of ponies, one wearing a bracken mask, wandered among the woodland

which Jackie photographed, including me.

Just before a somewhat cloud-obscured sunset I photographed a tree against the darkening sky.

This evening we dined on Jackie’s wholesome shepherd’s pie, firm flavoursome carrots, cauliflower, broccoli, and Brussels sprouts with which I drank more of the Fleurie that involved opening another bottle.

Sultry

For brunch, Jackie drove me to Hockey’s Farm Shop café, where we enjoyed our usual favourites, well cooked as always, and efficiently served in friendly manner.

As we left Burley ponies caused a traffic tailback as, oblivious of the vehicles, they settled in for a day of seeking what shade they could beneath trees, and such protection from flies as could be afforded by their nose to tail technique.

A couple of walkers found the prospect of stepping over droppings somewhat unpleasant.

When we returned this afternoon the animals had not moved much.

Others, already beset by flies, hugged a fence that seemed to have been reserved for them.

We needed to make way for an oncoming tractor on a narrow, dappled, section of Gorley Road.

Two ponies sought shade beneath tree alongside the Ibsley ford, from the stream under which another slaked its thirst.

Calves competed for space on a drinking trough beside Hyde Lane.

Jackie parked the Modus at Gorley Lynch while I disembarked to

photograph a distant stag with his roe deer harem.

At Poulner we encountered a steam traction engine.

Heather coloured the moorland either side of Holmsley Passage,

where I commended a pair of cyclists who had made it all the way up.

An apple tree grew on the moor beside Holmsley Road.

Along Tiptoe Road a pair of ponies drooped on the tarmac, opposite

a foal learning the reality of life with flies.

This evening we all dined on meaty pork bangers and fried onions; creamy mashed potato; crunchy carrots; firm broccoli stems; and piquant cauliflower cheese, with which Jackie drank Hoegaarden and I drank Côtes du Rhône Villages Plan de Dieu 2021.

Dappled Shade

This rather warmer day remained overcast for the morning when Jackie drove us to Hockey’s Farm Shop for lunch, while the sun laid claim to the skies for our return.

A group of ponies and their growing foals occupied Wootton Common and both sides of Tiptoe Road near to The Rising Sun.

The warmer weather has brought out the flies, seen on the last pony in this first gallery, with more irritating the foal and its mother on the verge of the road through Ibsley. The dam has developed the tolerance to ignore them whilst the little bay still hoped to shift them with constant shakes of its head.

Maybe the cattle huddled together for protection.

Further along the road this Toyota driver struggled to pass a pony blocking the way.

In the Farm Shop café we each brunched on our usual choices – mine the Hungry One, and Jackie’s, Laura’s Favourite. Jackie photographed one of the crisp yellow roses in a bottle arrangements that decorated each table.

Abbotswell Road, down which we ambled behind a young rider in training until she was led off the trail, was now as dappled as all the other roads.

Many streams were already drying up, but the one crossing the ford at the bottom of the hill continued rippling under the bridge.

The tour bus we followed along Roger Penny Way kept to a steady 30 mph, until delayed by cyclists, ponies, pigs, and one very successful donkey; when freed the bus picked up a little speed, which had us speculating that there was a schedule to be kept. Indeed there was – more passengers waited at the next pick up point.

Ponies on the verge at Cadnam were already adopting the nose to tail technique for keeping flies at bay,

while heavily panting sheep streamed down the hill seeking shade from the trees beside the shallowing ford. These are the Torddu or black bellied variety of Badger Faced Welsh Mountain sheep.

For this evening’s dinner, Jackie added hot and spicy, and tempura prawn preparations to last night’s Chinese Take Away leftovers, which we all enjoyed and with which Jackie and I both drank La Vieille Ferme rosé 2022.

Creepy Woods

I have been without a watch for a day or two. My Tissot needed a new strap and my Longines a battery. This morning Jackie found time to drive me to Robert Allan Jewellers in New Milton to have replacements fitted. We left the timepieces in the shop and drove into the forest before collecting them later from this excellent establishment which does the job quickly and efficiently.

Pastel skies streaked over the browning moorland flanking

the ever-crumbling Holmsley Passage

alongside which wild rose hips

rise above the rippling, reflective, stream.

From the passage we crossed Burley Road into Bisterne Close beside which the woods took on a decidedly creepy persona.

Beech nuts lined the forest floor.

The ditches

and the verge pool are filling up with the heavy rainwater we have been receiving lately.

A Travis Perkins lorry delivering bags of sand brought us to a halt. The driver was most apologetic. He had driven as close to the house entrance as he could, and would only be a few minutes. He underestimated how long it would take to tote one bag at a time up the drive. Having once been stuck on a verge with a similar drop to the one she would have to risk if we didn’t wait, my Chauffeuse reversed the Modus and took a longer back to New Milton.

This afternoon Dave, the plumber, visited to advise us on the replacement for our macerator which seems to be developing a death rattle; and Anne from Kitchen Makers advised that the handles we had chosen for some of our various new cupboards were not available and invited us to choose alternatives. After ordering the masticator of human refuse from Screwfit we called in on Anne and selected alternative grips.

This evening we dined on oven fish and chips, baked beans, and cornichons pickled in chilli. Jackie drank Hoegaarden and I drank more of the Fleurie.