The Needles – Page 6 – derrickjknight

A Blustery Day

CLICK ON IMAGES TO ENLARGE. THOSE IN CLUSTERS GIVE ACCESS TO GALLERIES WHICH CAN BE VIEWED FULL SIZE.

On a day of winds fit to threaten lingering autumn leaves like those on our crab apples, Jackie drove us to our GP surgery at Milford on Sea for our flu jabs (influenza vaccines).

Down at the coast, vociferous waves crashed onto breakwaters and rolled onto the shore and over the sea wall.

Even the gulls found huddling on the car park tarmac preferable to facing the buffeting elements.

Dramatic skies, seas, and lighting effects gave yet another perspective to the Isle of Wight and The Needles.

When I had my fill of being coated in salt water in the interests of my art, I rejoined Jackie in the car, and did my best to clean the camera lenses.

We then continued on to Friars Cliff beach where we brunched at the cafe.

Here the breakwaters also took a pounding,

but four walkers and a couple of romping dogs ventured onto the beach.

The smaller of the two dogs had a debate with its owner about whether it was possible to take refuge in the cafe. This somewhat obstructed my entrance.

This evening we dined on Jackie’s chicken marinaded in piri-piri and lemon; roasted vegetables, steamed cauliflower and Brussels sprouts, with mashed potato, I finished the madiran.

An Electric Light Show

CLICK ON IMAGES TO ENLARGE; THOSE IN SMALLER CLUSTERS GIVE ACCESS TO GALLERIES.

Becky and Ian returned home at lunchtime. I spent the afternoon printing off a draft novel a friend has sent me, doing me the honour of seeking my opinion on the work.

We left the printer processing the last few pages and set off for Tanners Lane to witness the sunset.

Naturally we were obliged to take our time in the queue to the beach. Some of the ponies sported day-glo orange to make sure they were noticed.

While waiting for a clear path we observed the evening light on the Isle of Wight in the distance.

This glow lent lively colours to the beach and sea waters at high, lapping, tide; and, of course, the Island, The Needles, and the lighthouse.

One other photographer was abroad. Naturally we had a chat.

Eventually, the sun sank low enough for the Electric Light Show to begin.

Back home this evening, Jackie and I dined on her wonderful sausage casserole, mashed potato, and boiled carrots, cauliflower, and Brussels sprouts. I drank Mendoza Bodega Toneles malbec 2012.

Indigo, Sepia, Lightning

CLICK ON IMAGES TO ENLARGE; SMALLER CLUSTERS GIVE ACCESS TO GALLERIES.

The four of us brunched today at Beachcomber cafe on the cliff top at Barton on Sea, within sight of The Isle of Wight and The Needles.

The day’s ever-changing light laid a haze over the ponies on Barton Common. Although these animals roam freely like any other New Forest pony, for their own protection, they are fenced along the road through to the coast.

Various walkers cast their shadows across the beach.

I am not sure of the purpose of the stationary working boat that rested on the sun-slashed ocean surface beneath the indigo skies.

The Beachcomber was as well patronised as usual; the food was good, and the service efficient and friendly.

Shortly before sunset I walked down Downton Lane and along the path through Roger’s fields. The sky bore a strangely sepia hue,

until the lowering sun set the cottages and fields alight,

and sent lightning flashes overhead.

This evening we dined on perfectly roasted lamb and potatoes; stuffing; crunchy cauliflower, carrots, and runner beans; gravy with lots of goodies, and mint sauce; followed by spicy pumpkin pie and cheesecake. Ian drank Peroni; the ladies, Australian white wine; and I finished the rioja.

Brunch

CLICK ON IMAGES TO ENLARGE. THOSE IN CLUSTERS AFFORD ACCESS TO GALLERIES.

Late this bright, sunny, and chilly, morning, Becky and Ian, Jackie and I, motored to Steamer Point for brunch in The Friars Cliff Cafe.

Blue sky and cotton clouds reflected their hues in ocean stripes against the backcloth of the Isle of Wight and The Needles, as walkers strode out along the steps of Friars Cliff beach.

People basked in the sunshine, which was surprisingly warm;

enough for the cafe tables on the promenade to be well patronised.

Smaller beings slalomed their way among feet and shadows.

Becky led Scooby down to look at the water, but his attention became diverted by an elegant, waving, tail.

Even when seated at the outside tables many people discarded their coats, like a couple of boys who hung theirs on their scooters, equally superfluous to requirements on the shingle.

The group in the background of the picture containing the mobile phone user was just one of many at the water’s edge.

This evening the four of us dined on Jackie’s luscious sausage casserole, mashed potato and swede; crunchy carrots and Brussels sprouts; followed by the most appetising pumpkin pie I have ever tasted. The Culinary Queen attributes the success to an extra egg, evaporated milk, nutmeg, and cinnamon. She and Becky finished the sauvignon blanc, Ian chose Peroni, and I drank El Pinsapo gran seleccion rioja, 2011.

Fire In The Sky

CLICK ON CLUSTERED IMAGES TO ACCESS LARGER GALLERIES

I began the day by managing to load all the pictures missing from yesterday’s post.

Flushed with success on this morning bright and crisp enough to bring tinges of pink, like those still visible in the garden, I ventured outside with my camera.

Although the curtain of weeping birch leaves is preparing to shed its beads, and the hosts of honesty reveal its seeds,

we still have plenty of colourful blooms, such as these dahlias, Japanese anemones, and fuchsias;

while begonias, honeysuckle, nicotianas, and penstemons persist.

This afternoon we went on driveabout.

On the moors between Brockenhurst and Beaulieu, the lowering sun gilded the topmost bracken fronds.

As we approached Beaulieu, ponies and cattle shared the grazing.

The equines wandered along the road seeking traffic to disrupt;

further on, a trio was more interested in the fodder.

Hatchet Pond itself was still and reflective.

On our return we diverted to Milford on Sea to catch the sunset. Looking east towards the Isle of Wight the sky wore pastel pinks and indigo hues;

contrasting with the fiery flames lighting up the west. As the sun receded into the water its radial beams streamed upwards.

This evening we dined on cheese-centred haddock fish cakes, mashed potato and swede, crunchy cauliflower, carrots, and runner beans, with which we both drank Prestige & Cavet sauvignon blanc 2014.

The Stone Face

CLICK ON SMALLER, CLUSTERED, IMAGES TO ACCESS LARGER GALLERIES.

This afternoon Jackie drove me to Hengistbury Head, where she drank coffee and I explored the scene.

En route to the beach, I passed the top of the hill, where walkers could be seen, to my left,

and observed silhouetted figures against the sea and skyline.

There was a new angle on the Isle of Wight and The Needles.

Walkers accompanied their dogs along the beach,

where a group did their best to dodge the advancing tide.

A gentleman contemplated the scene, and walked down the shingle to join them.

Eventually I did the same, and watched the sea slap the flanks of the rocks,

receding, sliding, slipping over the glistening, tinkling, shingle, and sucking at the seeping sand.

Soon the rolling waves came roaring in

and I walked back up to the footpath, passing a stone face, mouth open, ready to drink from the spume that would hopefully reach it.

I watched walkers ascending the hill which had once been home to Stone Age people (https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Hengistbury_Head)

Below, others were returning along the beach where

a pair of swans I had seen earlier still floated on the water.

We continued on to Boscombe where the pier was set against the sunbeams lighting the sea,

before returning home to a meal of fish cakes in lemon and parsley sauce, with boiled potatoes, carrots, cauliflower and broccoli, followed by bread and butter pudding. We finished the sauvignon blanc.

‘What Is Your Tactic?’

CLICK ON IMAGES TO ENLARGE. REPEAT IF REQUIRED.

As stated yesterday, Jackie drove us late in the afternoon to Steamer Point Nature Reserve where she parked the car and we walked down to Friar’s Cliff beach.

Here is the origin of the name of this area:

From the Nature Reserve, we could see

Highcliffe to our left,

The Isle of Wight and The Needles straight ahead,

and Friar’s Cliff Beach to the right.

A number of people were exercising their dogs on the sands

and in the water.

Two boys joined in.

It was not until I had moved along towards Friar’s Cliff Beach that I saw this notice.

It was just as well that I photographed the beach yesterday, because steady rain set in for the day as we entered The Beach Hut Café.

The reason we were here was that Jackie, drinking coffee here yesterday whilst I was photographing, had noticed Olympics breakfast on the menu. This was apparently something of a challenge, and came with a ‘no sharing’ rule. We decided I would try it for brunch. Our initial disappointment at its no longer being on offer was dismissed when we explained that we had only come for this treat and we were told that, in that case, they would produce one. This, of course, meant that I was really on my mettle. No way could I fall down on the challenge. Even though I did not know what this meal would contain. Jackie opted for the Big Breakfast which was, in itself, quite a challenge, but

nothing like this, which was placed in front of me with a certain amount of glee.

I had barely begun when Danny emerged from the kitchen and asked me ‘What is your tactic?’ Seeing that I clearly didn’t have one, our young friend, who had managed the feat on one occasion himself, suggested making sandwiches with the toast. As there were three fried eggs and six half rounds of toast, that is what I did.

In fact, I found myself imagining that I was in a generous Indian restaurant and reaching the painful stage when it was only my determination not to leave anything that kept me going. This helped, as did the periodic visits of the catering staff who informed me that I was ‘the best yet’, when I still had some way to go. Perhaps being a former marathon man trained to run through the pain barrier was of equal assistance.

When I was on the final lap, Jackie demanded the camera, and stayed poised for the last mouthful,

and the empty plate.

I swear My Grandfather’s Shirt was not so tight before I sat down.

Should anyone feel inclined to enquire about my evening meal, I would simply refer them to my brunch.

Salt Marshes

CLICK ON IMAGES TO ENLARGE. REPEAT IF REQUIRED

Early this morning I walked around the garden to survey the elemental damage. The review of the situation was actually encouraging.

The nicotiana and agapanthus staked up a couple of days ago have perked up;

as have the white gladioli,

and the surviving Priscillas

in the New Bed.

When we arrived, the clematis Campaniflora in the front garden rambled over all the other plants, including numerous brambles. We cut it down drastically. It has set off again and is now, the tiniest such bloom we have, dancing with abandon.

The Hot lips salvias are similarly enticing.

The gauras, and heucheras have just bent gracefully with the wind.

This clematis at the top of the Agriframes arch, an unnamed bargain from Lidl, has proved sturdy enough.

On the strength of that pleasant surprise, we enjoyed a drive around the forest. We didn’t visit Buckler’s Hard, which featured on 12th January 2013,

but peeped through the fence at others who were doing so as we drove past.

St Leonard’s Grange is one of the fifteen barns that once served Beaulieu Abbey. There is not much of it left at Beaulieu St Leonard’s. Just one and a half gable ends and one and a half walls. At 300 ft long and more than 50 ft wide it was one of the largest in Europe.

Here are part of the roofs of a newer building.

I found some nearby farm buildings equally photogenic.

Further on past Sowley, we ventured down a dead end road called Tanner’s Lane. This led straight to a shingle beach we couldn’t drive onto because this is what it was:

These were the salt marshes we had seen from the cruise boat out of Lymington Marina,

which was, in turn, even in the hazy sunlight, visible from here;

as was Hurst Castle,

and The Needles, demonstrating that the castle is on the nearest mainland point to the island.

An empty boat bobbed among the buoys.

Here is yet another view of the Isle of Wight and The Needles, for the delight of Mary Tang.

We will shortly leave for Barry and Vicki’s home in Poole. We are to try out the Isan Thai restaurant in Parkstone Road. Anyone who wishes to be informed about our gastronomical investigation must defer their gratification until tomorrow.

Anticipation

CLICK ON IMAGES TO ENLARGE. REPEAT IF REQUIRED.

Early this morning Jackie drove me out to Mudeford Quay for a photoshoot.

Neatly piled up are fishermen’s equipment, such as

ropes and chains,

and what I believe are crab pots,

and marker buoys.

It must have been the hazy heat that led us to water for the second day running. Even quite early it wrapped The Needles and their lighthouse in clingfilm as a yacht slipped past the Isle of Wight and a buoy bobbed in the bay.

Holidaymakers were emerging from their picturesque accommodation,

but otherwise families had not yet driven in their droves when we arrived and I wandered around watching various aquatic activities such as rowing;

what I am grateful to several commenters below, to be able to call paddle-boarding;

yachting;

and casting for fish.

Discussion about plans for the day took place while leaning on a boat,

or by means of the mobile phone. This paddling gentleman was soon joined by two children and a woman who rang to ask where he was. He was amused when I showed him the picture.

Even the gulls kept largely out of sight, except for one looking startled on the water,

and another surveying the scene from a rather motley rooftop.

Nearby, a roofer’s head was already lit by the sun which would soon bear straight down on him;

and The Haven staff were already watering the hanging baskets.

In eager anticipation of the first ferry trip to Hengistbury Head

families surged onto the quay

and formed an ever-lengthening queue.

The transport arrived on time and eager embarkation began.

The barriers around the quayside are to prevent anyone taking a dive down the steps leading up to the platform.

This father looked as if he was feeling the strain;

until he entered the boat and his partner brought along the empty buggy.

The last few boarders took their places,

and the fully laden boat set off.

As I returned to the car I spotted a large sandy dog excavating the spit across the water.

This afternoon I gave Jackie token assistance with watering the garden.

This even we dined on the Culinary Queen’s wholesome sausage, bacon, and heart casserole. She drank Hoegaarden and I quaffed more of the Côtes du Rhône.

The Watcher Watched

CLICK ON IMAGES TO ENLARGE. REPEAT IF REQUIRED.

After a leisurely breakfast we left Aaron, his nephew Rory, and Robin working on the fencing while Jackie drove the two of us, Jessie, and Guru to Ferndene Farm Shop for our friends to shop for their return.

This was such a hot, heavy, and overcast day that the Ferndene pigs had even less energy than we did.

One managed to snuffle around in a hole;

another was spark out.

Across the road, the thatching of The Homestead is complete.

After this we drove on to the cliff top overlooking The Solent, where a number of yachts sailed in the hazy sunlight. We were able to point out The Needles and their lighthouse.

The beach was quite populated.

One group walked past beach huts, one of which was clearly in use,

and settled down near the water’s edge.

Meanwhile, a gentleman emerged from the hut and raised his binoculars. The watcher was watched.

The above photographs were all taken with the Canon SX700 HS, because I hadn’t anticipated needing the zoom lens, and hadn’t tried out the fixed one.

Back home we continued a very enjoyable weekend over lunch, before Jessie and Guru returned to North London.

Later, I tried out the 55mm lens on the EOS D5 Mk ii.

Every time I pass this chimney pot planted with lobelia shoulders and cosmos crown, I have a sense of being stalked.

After vigorous bondage from The Head Gardener, the clematis Ville de Lyon now stretches across the side wall of No. 5 Downton Lane along our Back Drive,

and outside the kitchen window, Marie Boisselot is having a second flush.

This evening, Jackie and I dined on her superlative chicken jalfrezi, boiled rice, and parathas. She drank Hoegaarden and I finished the Fleurie.