Tag: Royden Lane

Blue Haze

Jackie managed to squeeze herself into a ball to sit on her kneeling stool underneath the red Japanese maple this morning in order to dig out clumps of allium triquentrums. Don’t be deceived by the visible sunlight. I was, and went to visit Mum without a jacket. It was cold.

My mother had quite some difficulty hearing us today from behind the screen. She finds my pitch more problematic than Jackie’s higher one. She was, however, in good spirits, and got my jokes, which my wife claims takes some doing.

After lunch we took a drive into the forest.

Jackie parked beside Royden Lane and decanted me so I could photograph

the surroundings, including the sawn stump of a tree that must have blocked the road when it keeled over; a stream flowing through the woodland; and a sun-dappled field horse beside a deep dry ditch spanned by another fallen tree.

The bluebell woods on either side of Church Lane are becoming dusted with their familiar haze.

The newly surfaced lanes of East End were no deterrent to donkeys trimming the hedges.

Two windsurfers could be seen against the backdrop of the Isle of Wight from the shingle beach at the end of Tanners Lane where

a young woman stood engrossed in her mobile phone while her charge attempted to scale a post.

This evening we dined on Jackie’s flavoursome sausage and mushroom casserole; creamy mashed potato; crunchy carrots; and firm cauliflower, with which she drank Hoegaarden and I drank Western Cape Malbec 2020.

“Behind You!”

Early this morning we took a trip in the driving rain which was to continue well into the afternoon. The time span of these pictures was about one hour beginning with the first on Southampton Road just after 10 a.m.

Jackie parked beside Royden Lane so that I could photograph a tree and raindrops falling and spiralling in puddles on the tarmac.

Noticing how muddy it was, as we entered Lower Sandy Down Jackie opined that this might not be a good idea. Round the next bend we encountered a van which, in view of the activity alongside it, was not going anywhere soon and provided reinforcement of her speculation. She, perforce, backed up and performed a multiple point turn.

We turned into the Balmer Lawn carpark beside Highland Water for me to photograph more raindrops in more puddles and give my hair a thorough rinse after my earlier shampoo.

At first it was just me and the crows, but soon a family group wearing suitable gear and sharing umbrellas wandered in among the oak trees.

Out of the corner of my left eye I noticed what Jackie, from the car, had imagined was the family dog speeding to catch them up. My resident Expert on Rare Breeds identified this as a Middle White which was on the endangered list. Even though it was alone, I doubt that it was the last one on earth, or even mud.

“Look behind you,” I cried, thinking that the humans might be in danger, or at least would like to see a pig in a pool.

The animal occupied them for a while until they wandered off and it stopped

for a scratch on a post.

Beechwood Road to Bartley offered fine woodland views.

We have never seen such a forlorn group of damp donkeys as those attempting to shelter under dripping trees at the Cadham Lane corner of Cadnam Common. Autumn leaves even adhered to their hides.

A single pony sporting a leaf sticker on its flank blended well with the colours of the Common

where cattle on the road attempted to persuade us to stay a while.

This evening we dined on oven battered haddock and golden chips; green peas; Garner’s pickled onions and Tesco’s wallies, with which Jackie drank Hoegaarden and I drank Trigales Spanish red wine.

Reflective Mood

It wasn’t until about 4 p.m. the afternoon that I realised on glancing through the window beside my desk that the sun had made a fleeting appearance as,

against the still indigo skies, it lit the pink rambling rose rising from the front trellis.

Its deeper pink companion soared above the porch, and the first of the Félicité Perpétue blooms which will drape themselves over the opposite fence has opened out.

I had spent the morning reading and responding to the letters of condolences it has taken me three months to complete. We posted these from Everton Post Office and drove on further into the forest.

Royden Lane took us to

Lower Sandy Down. On the left hand side of this shot stands

a large oak tree the bole of which is home to ferns, ivy, and mosses.

An unusual number of ponies grazed around Hatchet Pond, normally the realm of donkeys.

Stately swans disturbed the surface of the lake which mirrored their images.

A black headed gull was in an equally reflective mood.

This evening we dined on Jackie’s perfect pork paprika; boiled new potatoes; breaded mushrooms; and green beans. The Culinary Queen drank Hoegaarden and I drank more of the Carmenere.

“It’s Their Road, Not Mine”

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Eucalyptus shadow

We enjoyed another splendidly sunny summer’s day. In the garden the eucalyptus cast its welcome shadow across the grass;

while tulips, daffodils, wallflowers, and cowslips glowed in the sunshine.

At lunchtime I received a date for my first knee replacement. It is 18th May. I have never heard of anything so fast. This afternoon I undertook the blood test for the hip replacement check. Jackie having driven me to Lymington Hospital for the latter, we continued into the forest.

The primrose bank alongside the stream in Royden Lane was also streaked with shadows. A pair of cyclists happily rode by at an opportune moment.

Horses in field

I imagine the hay heaped in the field opposite was essential food for the horses a week or so ago. Now the grass is coming through again.

This land may have dried out now, but parts of the forest, like this area outside Brockenhurst, were still waterlogged. Instead of shadows we were treated to reflections of trees, some of which had fallen. After such wet periods as the terrain has recently endured, there are always more fallen trees. Often the roots rot and the giants topple.

Two ponies, dozing under a railway arch may, perhaps, two or three weeks ago have used this shelter as an umbrella; today it was a parasol. A pair of cyclists skirted the animals in order not to disturb them. “It’s their road, not mine”, said the leading woman.

Orange berberis flamed in the hedgerows outside Exbury Gardens, while white wood anemones, yellow celandines, and little violets festooned the banks of a dry ditch opposite.

This evening we dined at The Royal Oak. Jackie enjoyed a huge portion of chicken tandoori, while I tucked into an excellent rib eye steak cooked exactly as I asked. Jackie’s drink was Amstell, mine was a rather good Argentinian Malbec.