waves – Page 2 – derrickjknight

A Dog Cart

Late this morning I published https://derrickjknight.com/2021/10/06/a-knights-tale-46-ok-how-did-you-do-it/

We then drove to Steamer Point and

brunched at the Beach Hut Café at Friars Cliff. This has been our first visit since before Covid. I needed no further sustenance this evening.

Many customers dined alfresco. We were the only couple inside, because

we couldn’t find a place to ourselves.

One gentleman made short work of his ice cream.

Some visitors kayaked or swam in the albeit brisk water, turbulent waves of which

tossed spray against breakwater rocks.

A lone fisherman stood optimistically watching his line.

Small groups thronged the promenade.

Dog walkers wandered along the shingle. There is a surprise at the end of this gentleman’s lead.

An ingenious dog cart. Enlargement may help to view it.

Passing a gentleman painting his beach hut,

we bade farewell to the beach, and turned into the forest.

Ponies cropped the verges of Warnes Lane just outside Burley.

Others were to be seen alongside Forest Road,

and, further on, we listened to the squeaking of satisfied pink piglets,

and the scampering snorts of small saddlebacks in search of mast.

Photographing Forest Fauna

From late morning Jackie drove our visitors and me around the forest. De had walked down to the coast at Milford where we joined her.

Jan photographed De seated beneath an umbrella, where their daughter was joined first by her father and then by her mother.

Choppy waves threw up creamy spray before sliding up and slipping back down the crunching shingle beach.

The trio walked along the clifftop promenade and down the steps toe the sea level.

Pannage pigs at Pilley snuffled and snorted their way around the verges.

We stopped for a drink at the Fleur de Lys, to find that it had been under new management for just a week. This prompted us to book a table for this evening.

Jan photographed and conversed with donkeys beside Beaulieu Lake, the banks of which

a preening swan and cygnets shared with gulls,

while one of the young swans reflected on the surface over which a crow took to the air.

At East Boldre we stepped out to photograph ponies casting shadows as the sun emerged.

This evening’s meal at the Fleur de Lys was excellent. We shared starters of Thai Fish Cakes and Belly of Pork; Jackie and I enjoyed Burger mains; I am not sure what the others chose; we all finished with sticky toffee pudding. We shared a bottle of Pinot Grigio and a Mendoza Argentine Malbec. I completed the meal with a Bailey’s, Jackie abstained and the others drank varieties of gin.

Greys And Greens

We had booked to see Mum in the garden today, but it was too cold (11C), so we reverted to the Screen room. My mother was on good form, and able to hear me rather better.

After lunch Jackie drove us to New Milton where she deposited some clothes in Whites dry cleaners and, after a very positive eye test, I ordered some new specs.

The weather was wild, wet and windy when we drove on to Milford on Sea where,

buffeted by blustery winds and unable to see what I was pointing at, I photographed swathes of sweeping storm-tossed waves; billowing salt-spray; resilient rocks; sturdy breakwaters; and Hurst lighthouse. Checking my results really was rather a lucky dip.

Just one grey pony stood out among the varied layered greens of the mushroomed leaves now clothing the distant trees seen as we looked down over Wootton.

After a visit to Ferndene Farm Shop we retuned home.

This evening we dined on Jackie’s well-filled beef pie; boiled potatoes; crunchy carrots and cauliflower; tender runner beans; and spicy ratatouille, with which the Culinary Queen drank Hoegaarden and I finished the Malbec.

Rugs Still Required

Belying the cold wind which did not lessen until late afternoon, the such shone between fast moving fluffy cotton clouds. A brief garden survey revealed a few broken plant stems and one smashed owl. We decided to return to the clearance work tomorrow, and go out for a drive after lunch.

Martin from Crestwood flooring visited this morning to take measurements for our next refurbishment project. I then began drafting Danni’s guest post, ‘Ella And The Bin Men’ which I posted before we went out.

We began our trip at Milford on Sea where the waves were very choppy and the wind,

against which Jackie photographed me battling, blustering fiercely.

While the Assistant Photographer was intent on catching me with gulls, I aimed to catch them frolicking on the thermals,

after which they would bask and blink in the warmth of the car park tarmac.

Across the Solent the cliffs of the Isle of Wight were in clear view, and gorse on our side tumbled down the ever-eroding cliffs beneath which painted beech huts nestled.

Small groups walked along the promenade and couples played bowls.

Just as we were leaving, Jackie photographed an oil rig far out to sea.

We turned inland and drove past roofers at perilous work along Barton Court Road.

On the Norley Wood end of Burley Road a garden encampment seemed to have taken a buffeting.

I disembarked at Braggers Lane to focus on

landscapes on both sides.

Gnarly shadows sprawled along the verges; a recently ripped branch stretched across the sward.

Riding horses occupying a field on my left still wore rugs during this period when the night temperatures are still close to zero centigrade.

Cattle on the other side lay down in a line, keeping the grass warm.

This evening we dined on Jackie’s hot and spicy lamb jalfrezi and pilau rice with which I drank more of the Fleurie. These pots contain enough for a good five meals.

Battling To Bring Them Down

Fierce winds, having raged overnight, continued for a good part of the day, sending us to Milford on Sea’s coastline,

to photograph the ocean with its spraying, creamy, waves pounding the breakwaters and the sea wall.

Jackie watched the play of my writhing jacket.

A formation of distant kite surfers took us off to Keyhaven for a closer look. Hurst Castle appears in this last image.

Like speedboats the surfers sent up their own spray; wrestled on the shingle with the kites flung into life by the blustery winds; and performed silhouetted aerobatics. Meanwhile sea defence trucks travelled along the spit.

Once the kites were in the air and the time had come for departure the surfers set about battling to bring them down, sometimes one aeronaut anchoring another.

We also enjoyed a closer look at Hurst Castle.

This evening we dined on Mr Chan’s Hordle Chinese Take Away excellent fare with which Jackie drank Hoegaarden and I drank Mendoza Malbec 2019.

Now I am going to settle down to watch the last Six Nations rugby match, between France and Scotland.

“Tomorrow Will Be A Good Day”

Knowing that we are about to experience strong gales for three days I lay down the garden chairs and the new water feature as a precaution this morning, and this afternoon we visited the coast at Milford on Sea to make calmer photographs than we would anticipate for a while.

Although from a distance the sea looked calm enough as I focussed on the Isle of Wight and a woman on the seafront shingle,

it wasn’t that tranquil.

Jackie focussed on me photographing

waves advancing in a rush, and seeping back across the shingle.

As we left, a black-headed gull was perched for takeoff.

Should there be anyone who does not know of Captain Sir Thomas Moore, you are advised to consult https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Captain_Tom_Moore to read about the inspirational gentleman approaching his 100th birthday who, during 2020 raised our nation’s spirits; £34,000,000+ for the NHS; and, ultimately Queen Elizabeth II’s dubbing arm. This man’s favourite phrase, “Tomorrow will be a good day”, has been celebrated in yarn on the Pilley Street letter box.

After passing this, we drove on to Lepe where, from Inchmere Lane

we looked out over the flats, where I photographed

a solitary oyster catcher, and Jackie photographed

a motor boat.

I disembarked beside a seasonal pool on Exbury Road where I photographed

reflections of overhead trees;

fallen branches; and a mossy bank.

Do ducks lay eggs on a bare scratched circular area of ground? If so, I found one.

This evening we dined on Jackie’s chicken and vegetable stewp with fresh bread, followed by her spicy pasta arrabbiata and tender runner beans, with which she drank Hoegaarden and I drank more of the Primitivo Salento.

Late Afternoon

The 106 m.p.h. wind that ripped through The Needles overnight howled around our house and garden.

Numerous plant pots were blown down;

tables and the new pig hit the deck;

owls were knocked off their perches;

broken branches and scattered trugs tossed around;

an arch bent and a rose dislodged. I had the sun in my eyes when the rose accosted me and pierced both my head and my jacket.

Late this afternoon we drove to Milford on Sea watching wild waves whipping up spray, lashing wooden breakwaters and wetting glistening rocks. Gulls swooped overhead; numerous walkers braced the bitterly cold wind. One group descended the slippery shingle, then attempted to avoid the rippling waves licking their feet. One young lady had forgotten to cover her legs.

It was hardly surprising that no-one sat at the picnic tables of the Needles Eye Cafe standing in reflecting pools.

My fingers tingled enough to send me back into the car while I waited for the sunset.

This evening we dined on Jackie’s post-Christmas soup with crusty bread followed by gooseberry and apple crumble with which the Culinary Queen drank Hoegaarden and I drank more of the Montaria.

Full PPE

This afternoon we joined Elizabeth and Danni at Woodpeckers for a visit to Mum. Pre-Christmas limited four-fold family visits have been arranged by Colten Care.

On arrival we were issued with the usual forms explaining who we are with our temperature recorded. We were also required to sanitise our hands and don face masks, gloves, and aprons. Our own masks, etc. had to be changed for those available at reception. On departure the supplied PPE were disposed of in a bin provided.

Chairs were spread out in the allocated room, ensuring that we kept the correct distances. Teas, coffee, sausage rolls, mince pies, and Christmas cake were brought in for us.

The visit was timed for an hour, but we were given an extra ten minutes.

Jackie photographed the rest of us. The second picture shows Mum nursing our present.

Danni added by e-mail the Assistant Photographer and me, and Mum. The second photograph demonstrates the problem with social distancing which made it difficult for her to see us clearly. In the circumstances this could not be avoided.

Afterwards my Chauffeuse drove me through driving rain to catch the sunset at Barton.

For a while I stayed in the car before battling with gusting winds when the rain ceased.

Jackie captured me near the clifftop where the wind was throwing me about a bit. I was somewhat further from the edge than this perspective suggests, and refrained from picturing the strip just in front of me which was rent by a deep cleft suggesting it will be the next stretch to fall. I just couldn’t be stable enough to risk it;

neither could I get near enough to focus on the very choppy waves,

so I settled for some longer distance sunset shots.

As I walked back to the car a woman came into view with three small children and a dog excitedly running towards her. The pooch, as they do, raced towards the cleft. I called to the woman and warned her. She gathered up her brood and led them further inland.

Yesterday I pictured Jackie’s beef and mushroom pie with unbroken crust.

Today we enjoyed a second helping complete with Yorkshire pudding, roast potatoes, Brussels sprouts, cauliflower, carrots, and gravy, with which Jackie drank Hoegaarden and I finished the Malbec.

Communal Bath

Quite early this morning we drove to Mudeford to look at the sea. The sun briefly outlined the horizon; the waves were very choppy and

determined to bubble over the wall onto the promenade. I needed to be unaccustomedly quick on my feet to keep them dry, whereas

a reflecting fisherman just paddled patiently.

As I watched the water dripping from a walker’s uplifted foot I wondered whether his dog really wanted a walk as it hopefully hugged the bollards yet would probably pick up wetter paws when circumventing each vacant bench ahead.

Sailboarding was under way –

more so in the more sheltered harbour away from the open sea. Some of these gentlemen, nevertheless couldn’t keep out of the water for long.

One came a cropper behind a capsized sailboat against which the thud of the waves syncopated with the

tinkling of the rigging of the parked sailboats

and drowned the gentler lapping of the soft sea foam frothing over the coastal pebbles.

From her car Jackie focussed on a more distant fisherman who was himself beset by spray battering rocks.

Nearer at hand she was so engrossed with a clutch of iridescent-flecked starlings that she might have missed the one perched upon her wing mirror had it not begun to shout at her.

Gulls soon moved in, one pointing out the necessity to pay for parking, and another

attempting to join in the starlings’ communal bath.

Finally she snapped her fisherman packing up.

The evening we dined on “definitely the last serving” of Jackie’s still succulent beef and mushroom pie, boiled potatoes, carrots. cauliflower and runner beans, with which she drank Hoegaarden and I drank The Second Fleet Lime Stone Coast Shiraz 2019.

Waterditch Road

I wasted the best part of a rainy afternoon wrestling with my scanner because I had planned to start a new series of slides and negatives, but it is so long since I worked on any of those that I managed to mess up the settings and couldn’t sort them out. I even downloaded a manual from the internet but couldn’t understand what to do with it. Children, grandchildren, great nieces and nephews – help me please.

My caring Chauffeuse, despite the increasing hammering of rain lashed by 50+ m.p.h. winds, dragged me out of my slough of despond by suggesting we went out for a drive.

We began on the eroded cliffs of Milford on Sea

along which I struggled against the gales.

Waves crashed against the rocks below and the Isle of Wight was barely visible to intrepid walkers.

Ripples blew across the car park; traffic control signs, and barriers to road works were flattened.

Continuing inland we listened to the mesmerising swish of windscreen wipers and the cacophony of clattering rain,

gazed on wet fields with neither sheltered livestock nor sensible wildlife in sight.

We were about to turn for home, but on such a day it seemed obligatory to investigate Waterditch Road. So we did.

As we traversed the ford over the stream that no doubt gave the road its name we felt grateful that we did not live in the house beside it.

British Summer Time does not end until 2 a.m. tomorrow morning, but, driving into headlights through Highcliffe soon after 5 p.m. one would never have known.

This evening we dined on toothsome baked gammon; crisp roast potatoes; succulent ratatouille; crunchy carrots; and tender runner beans with which the Culinary Queen drank Hoegaarden and I finished the Montpeyroux. Afterwards we enjoyed Jackie’s aromatic apple pie and cream.