stream – derrickjknight

Dump Trip And Forest Drive

This morning we transported eight bags of garden refuse, a rusted sack barrow, and two lidless dustbins surplus to our requirements, to Efford Recycling Centre.

The blue-sky-bright sunshine belied the acute chill in the air as we took a forest drive towards the end of the afternoon.

The postbox outside the eponymously named cottage on Wootton Road sports an Armistice memorial.

Autumn colour lingers along Holmsley Passage where the stream ripples across the larger ford;

along the Bisterne Close woodland fallen leaves and mossy trunks were lit by late shafts of sunlight,

and a bay pony cropped and chewed holly leaves impervious to prickles in her leather-lined jaws.

We were just in time for sunset at Barton on Sea’s Marine Drive East,

where cloud colour was muted when looking east.

This evening we dined on breaded scampi, chips, onion rings, and peas.

In Search Of A Mate

After more stimulating conversation Louisa, Geri, and Coco left us at 10 a.m. this morning.

Jackie then set about removing the tree roots impeding the level of the area behind the garden shed, and photographing her work.

I bagged up the waste roots.

We have a number of areas where the soil has recently been thrown up in what are now molehills produced by these normally solitary animals burrowing underground in search of a mate. One of these is the new footpath into the Weeping Birch Bed.

The Head Gardener also photographed the Cryptomeria Bed;

and roses Lady Emma Hamilton, aloha complete with raindrops and a fly, an Absolutely Fabulous bud, and Mamma Mia also bejewelled with rainwater.

This afternoon we took a forest drive. On a shaded bank at the corner of Bistern Close and Bennett’s Lane a squirrel scampered while the woodland behind enjoyed the sunshine.

This being bonfire season our nostrils often sniffed woodsmoke like this in the smoky landscapes seen from Picket Post carpark.

The rippling stream flowing fast under the ford at North Gorley reflected the footbridge above.

This evening we repeated last night’s meal of chicken and vegetable stewp and focaccia bread.

Cockapoos

We enjoyed a pleasant morning with Louisa and her Cockapoos, Geri and Coco.

After lunch my daughter and I took the dogs on a forest drive.

The first stop was on Wootton Common.

Louisa photographed me venturing to cross the road to join them,

where they enjoyed splashing in the sodden pools.

Louisa parked the car beside the stream at Holmsley Passage and took her pets for a walk across the moorland and back.

I remained beside the car and focussed on the stream and on the landscape.

Coco kept me company on our return home.

Later this afternoon Helen and Bill joined us for more convivial conversation.

Elizabeth joined us for dinner which consisted of Jackie’s wholesome chicken stewp with focaccia brought by Louisa. I drank more of the Shiraz and my sister drank FeeDamm non-alcoholic lager.

Most Dispirited

The unexpected gales of Anthony, the first ever UK named August storm, wreaked havoc throughout the night.

Jackie has repaired her ceramic owl wind-chimes on countless occasions, but this crashing onto the patio paving, just a day after she had last glued the myriad of pieces together left it beyond further repair, and her most dispirited. The woven ring is Flo’s work.

The rain eased for the morning. By late afternoon we set out on a shopping trip to Tesco, during which an almighty hatful more, despite being repeatedly replenished, was

thrown down on shoppers, trolleys, and cars alike.

Soon sunshine vied for dominance with the rain.

Wet ponies along Forest Road continued with the important work of stocking up on grass

alongside a new stream running down the moorland slope.

On our return along Forest Road ponies ran up the hill while a young woman, having passed both us and them, ran down.

This evening we all dined on Tesco’s spicy burgers; fried onions; sandwich gherkins; and French fries, with which Jackie drank Hoegaarden and I drank more of the GSM.

Not Summer

Although the rain largely kept away today, the weather remained unseasonably cold and overcast as, after purchasing provisions at Ferndene Farm Shop, Jackie and I took a brief drive along Holmsley Passage and back.

Cyclists and dog walkers travelled along the disused railway track; walkers and ponies graced the moorland; and one runner jogged down the hill.

Ponies in particular foraged unconcerned with what went on around them, where

heather purpled the landscape despite the

glowering skies silhouetting the tree line.

The almost dried up stream beneath the road once more ripples, flows, and nurtures weeds.

On Burley Road a pony defied the traffic to encroach upon its companion foal.

Whatever the season is it is definitely not summer.

This evening we all dined on Jackie’ s fusilli pasta bake containing bacon, boiled eggs, and various vegetables, accompanied by baked gammon, with which she drank more os the rosé and I drank La Vieille Ferme vin rouge, 2021.

Drying Up

It is normal practice for someone from New Forest District Council to mark areas of the tarmac for repair with white corner lines. These sometimes stay so long that they can be erased by traffic.

A BBC News item of 17th May concerning Lymington and its environment begins with “Potholes in neighbouring towns have been daubed with penis images in an apparent attempt to speed up repairs.

Hampshire County Council said the graffiti in Lymington and Milford-on-Sea would be removed when engineers assessed the holes.” (https://www.bbc.co.uk/news/uk-england-hampshire-65623391#)

Varying opinions are viewed in the article.

Today I photographed one in Ramley Road.

This was at the start of a forest drive after a successful hygienist clean of my elderly gnashers.

Dappled lanes enlivened our chosen route;

sunlight splashed the banked verges of South Sway Lane, while

the dribble of the drying stream beneath the ford on Holmsley Passage scarcely rippled what surface remained, and

Healthy grasses elegantly bent their heads beside it.

Cattle cropped the verges of Holmsley Road.

Shadows stretched across Bisterne Close, where the yellow flag irises and white water buttercups were now rooted in a dried up pool on the bed of which I stood to produce the third photograph in this gallery.

While we were out a veritable proliferation of foals had sprouted on Wotton Common. I wandered among them at will but only photographed a sample.

This evening we all dined on Jackie’s classic cottage pie topped with potato slices baked with the mince; piquant cauliflower cheese; firm Brussels sprouts, and tasty gravy; followed by Flo’s moist and well textured mango cake and custard, with which the Culinary Queen drank more of the Asahi, and I drank more of the Malbec.

A Bed Of Buttercups And Daisies

While attending to my morning start of responding to readers’ comments and reading others’ posts, I was alerted by a question on https://bvitelli2002.wordpress.com to the fact that

A Damsel In Distress

had not been updated from Classic to Block edit. I therefore rectified this so that Barbara will be able to view it properly.

After a trip to the Milford Pharmacy on this warm and sunny in a week in which we have been beamed from wet winter to a midsummer period Jackie drove me to Hockey’s Farm Shop for brunch where she

photographed our substantial meals, and, through the open door,

a busy blackbird on the ground and a thatched pig on a roof.

Many may trees, like these at Ogden’s North, are festooned with spreading blossom enlivening the landscape.

The rippling, reflecting, stream at the bottom of the hill seems very shallow during this dry spell.

Back at the top of the slope we looked down on a herd of deer who, even at this distance, got wind of me and scarpered sharpish.

One foal, its mother chomping unconcerned, sprawled on a bed of buttercups and daisies; another pony standing guard in the middle of the road at Ibsley, where, further on, a second infant stood by its Dam.

This evening we all enjoyed a meal of Ashleigh fish, chips, and onion rings; Garner’s pickled onions; and Mrs Elswood’s pickled gherkins.

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.

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.