On a dull, dreary, yet dry, finger-tingling morning Jackie and took a forest drive.
Golden gorse extended across the otherwise brindled bracken-layered moorland traversed by a solitary dog walker and flanking the eroding tarmac of Holmsley Passage.
I entered the woodland alongside Bisterne Close, passing a lattice of branches against the sky; a wildlife tepee built for sheltering small fauna and insects; a recently uprooted mossy tree; scattered bones upon the ground, on my way to
commune with a distant equine group, one pair of which were engaged in mutual grooming.
Back on the Close we noticed a recently fallen, sawn, arboreal giant, its golden core rings and fresh sawdust betraying its recent sectioning. This gold will not take long to turn grey, but many years to gradually disintegrate and return to the dust of the earth, eventually nourishing the next generations of oaks or beeches.
This afternoon I watched the ITV transmissions of the Six Nations rugby matches between Wales and Italy, and between England and France.
Dinner this evening consisted of succulent roast pork; crisp roast potatoes and Yorkshire pudding; sage and onion stuffing; crunchy carrots; firm cauliflower and broccoli, and tasty gravy. Jackie drank Hoegaarden and I finished the Frappato-Syrah.
Albeit lightly at first, yet with increasing heaviness, steady rain fell throughout the day.
Jackie has woken developing a cold, so late this morning we drove to Hordle Pharmacy to buy some Day and Night Nurses and pain relief.
Another tree has been destroyed in Sway Road.
Afterwards we took a short forest drive. Our section of the A35,
up to the land of the Oak Craft company, has been partially closed for a couple of years, and partially so for a good six months.
This is to permit the widening and strengthening of the road bridge over the disused railway near Holmsley. The anticipated completion date is now early in April, which, if effective, will be a relief to us and to many more who have received far more traffic of all shapes and sizes trying to find alternatives to this major route through the forest. We have at least three times the vehicles passing our front door on the A337 than usual, and regularly come face to face with mechanical monsters on our small winding lanes. Everywhere signs crop up pleading for care and reduced speed because of animals on the road. Confusing diversions proliferate, and affect even our short journeys.
On our way to Bisterne Close there was hardly a pony in sight – they sought shelter where they could.
The woodland off the Close was the best that some could find. Nevertheless those I wandered amongst were decidedly bedraggled.
This evening we dined on second helpings of Jackie’s wholesome cottage pie with fresh vegetables. I drank more of the Douro.
This morning Jackie continued with her general garden maintenance, including pruning, while I dug more weeds out of the Gazebo path gravel.
I can just about manage this for half an hour, but imagine the exercise is doing me good. Crouching is now possible; it is rising from the crouch that has me thinking I might not make it. So, after the pain barrier had been reached, with the gait of a man on stilts, I stumbled indoors for my camera and recovered my questionable flexibility wandering around with it.
Various Japanese maples are exhibiting their vibrant colours;
The crab apples at the front are blossoming, and the Amanogawa cherry is having a second flush. The blossoms of this Japanese tree that I photographed more than a month ago were on the lower branches; those higher ones, reaching to the skies, have now burgeoned at a more usual time.
Shadows fell across the lawn and across mosses and ornamental grasses.
Variously hued heuchera leaves join forget-me-nots and bluebells waiting for roses to bloom in the Rose Garden.
Although the sun was clearly taking a long siesta we took a drive into the forest this afternoon.
We stopped to admire the new crown to the thatch on the Woolpack Inn at Sopley with its attendant peacock.
Overlooking both the pub and Mill Lane stands
the 13th Century grade II listed St Michael & All Angels Church around which graveyard atop a steep hill I wandered.
The inscriptions on most gravestones and sarcophagi are largely obscured by colourful lichen.
Although some of the images above display the drop down to Mill Lane, this view from very close to a corner of the building demonstrates the vertiginous nature of this ancient place of worship.
Two woolly schoolchildren seem to have been left inside this currently Covid-locked church, which will definitely be worth a further visit when it is possible for visitors to enter once more. Services are held following strict regulations.
From the churchyard I could hear the rush of the mill race to what is now a wedding venue. Maybe the people in this photograph were checking it out for such an event.
It has recently been necessary to cut down a tree.
When we spotted a small herd of deer on nearby hillside,
Jackie parked on Rockford Lane,
along which I walked in search of the final shot.
For dinner this evening Jackie produced succulent baked gammon; piquant cauliflower cheese; stir-fried leeks with pre-boiled cauliflower leaves; and crunchy carrots with which she drank Hoegaarden and I drank Coonawarra Cabernet Sauvignon 2019
