The thirsty garden

After the searing heat from the last couple of days (yes even I agree is was definitely the wrong sort of warm and sultry summer weather) today we woke up to gently overcast skies and even more gentle rain. I could feel my garden crying with relief.

I was working this morning and I delayed going out for about twenty minutes as the rain was heavier at that point, however I decided the best thing to do - was to go out and get wet with the gardens.... so I did. And whilst I listened to swallows chittering over head with my hands in damp soil I kept catching myself smiling.

And it was wonderful.

The smell of petrichor, the taste of the mist as it swirled around my head, the light pinprick of droplets on my forehead and the accumulating rain droplets on my eyelashes were magical.

In Africa - rain is a gift, and now in the uk - today - it was too, our precious thirsty garden is just that - very thirsty.

I hope you were gifted with some rain today - gentle, cooling and essential xxxx

Slipping through the mist

The crunch of my boot seemed unnaturally loud as I walked along the track. It seemed rather intrusive.

Smudged by the mist, the distant wistful song of an unseen bird, it's tune distorted and hollow sounding, seemed to echo around the trees.

Moss trotted on ahead, sniffing and following scents, reading different stories to the ones I could see with my eyes. Her ears pricked and listening to sounds I did not hear.

A faint dripping sound as the trapped mist ran down branches and collected at the tips, wobbling a while then dropping to the leaf litter below. 

Above me I could hear the breeze shush through the upper tree level, it was almost lazy as it swirled through the branches. I could just about feel it's chilly touch on my left check as we walked.

Along the route we were watched over by the guardians of the woods, it was magical finding them as they silently appeared out of the gloom.

A Victorian home, now an outdoor centre - looking forlorn, sulked with curtains half closed and an air of abandonment. I know that the pandemic has pushed it to the brink - it remains to be seen if it can recover....

Storms Arwen and Barra have certainly left their mark with hundreds of trees flattened it their wake.

Trees twisted and torn, still hanging or leaning on telephone wires, some cleared, others still looking shocked and felled.

It was eerie and beautiful in one moment. The dampening from the mist making sounds soft and muffled and the view fading until invisible.

I could hear the lapping of the water in the tarn and knew from years of walking along this route that the tarn, unseen, was a few meters away, the only confirmation being the wooden sculpture and the shadowy shape of the boat house.

The air was chilly and I'd reached the furthest point on our walk, time to turn and return back to the car.

 It was a brief escape - one that would have been longer if there'd been time, however for that magical half hour, Moss and I evaporated into the landscape and walked with memories and plans.

wow - I loved Sunday!

Sunday started as an at-home-day, we had jobs to do, bulbs to plant, washing to work through, general tidying and house care, when we said, almost as one .... 'Why don't we go out in the van - TONIGHT?' There was a moment's silence as we stared at each other, then we sprang into action. 

Clothes were collected, food sorted, boots, coats, hats and gloves found, camera and phone chargers switched on and the van packed. Within a couple of hours of sorting out the house and garden, we were driving off to the lakes. Darkness fell fairly quickly and although it was early evening when we arrived - it felt very late!

Our chosen spot for the night was a coastal road with permissible parking for vans and after we'd eaten, we soon fell asleep. In the morning our view was of the frosty estuary and the bluest of clear blue skies.

Himself brewed up mugs of steaming hot tea and coffee, we curled our fingers around them as we felt the early morning chill on our cheeks. I could smell the metallic tang of wintery air. After breakfast and a quick dog walk, we headed into Carnforth and spent a very happy hour or so in the bookshop. Himself could have spent a fortune but I was more intrigued by the architecture of the building with stairs that seemed to vanish or only go down a step or two then after one stride immediately come back up. There was room after room of books on shelves up to the ceilings with some of the rooms with the perfect chair for curling up and reading. Floors were on many levels and rooms looked like they had been added on as an afterthought!

After a while we felt the pull to be back out and on with our walk and Moss agreed, so we drove to our chosen parking spot and as I made sandwiches and Himself sorted out maps and boots - a robin appeared and insisted that he'd NOT eaten A THING all week. We humoured him and I crumbled some cheese, raisins and bread on a tree stump.

Robin fed, boots on, lunch packed and map at the ready we set off. As we left the car park we noticed the same robin had cornered another unsuspecting walker who had also fallen for the 'I've not EATEN for a WEEK' and was feeding his sandwich to it!

Our walk started in Eaves Wood - one of my favourite places but today's route only skirted through a small edge of it and soon we were heading towards Gaits Barrow.

We have stopped at the little summerhouse before - about three years ago and it was barely visible from the track and having spotted it, we noticed it's rather dilapidated state. This time we could see there had been a lot of love and restoration lavished on it. The doors, soffits, roof, guttering and pointing had all been replaced with new and it was sporting several bat boxes and swallow and swift nesting points.

Our route took us through ancient tracks, alongside woodland, in and out of farmland, by streams and in the company of curious heifers who cautiously escorted us from one end of their huge field to the other.

Suddenly we arrived at the nature reserve - far too early - I must be very much fitter than the last time we walked this way! So we made the most of the late afternoon light and took photographs of the amazing reflections. Looking at the water was like looking into another realm!

We then walked back to the van in the last of the afternoon sun, dropped off our bags and fed Moss, tucked her up in her bed and after a quick cuppa, set back to the nature reserve to watch the evening's entertainment - the whole reason why we were there!

We stood on the nature reserve's causeway track which goes through the moss and reed beds, people were spread out all along, waiting and watching as were we. 

Then the starlings started to appear - first small groups of 50 to 100 birds. As they flew overhead we could hear a whispering woosh of their wings, then a millisecond later the split splat splot as their droppings hit the floor - a hazard of watching them!! I tried videoing them but my efforts do not do their aerial display any justice. 

(I am afraid that blogger wont let me down load the videos - grrrr. So I have removed the link and added another image instead)

As a display it was not as monstrously magnificent as it had been last time we were there, however this year it was directly above us and although lots of smaller displays (hundreds rather than thousands) it was amazing to watch. We were so so much closer,  close enough to see that magical invisible chord the birds have as they twist and turn without so much as a peep of control. They twirled and swooped (and pooped!) over and over and around us then with a silent accord they dropped into the reeds. It was at this point there was a rallying cry and the birds twittered and chattered at an ear deafening chorus - it gave me goose bumps galore!

By this time it was almost too dark to see so we stumbled our way back to the van as did most of the other spectators. We were almost back when we were startled and in turned spooked a Roe deer and for a brief moment we stood staring at each other, then it silently vanished in the dark woods. Oh so spellbinding!

When we opened the van - our dear dilly dog was still fast asleep - full tum and warmly wrapped in her duvet - what a life! 

We drove off into the night back to the shore road; there we had a mug of tea as I cooked, filling the van with a warming scent of our meal. Our conversation was of our day brimming with precious moments of magic. And tomorrow was still to come🐾💗

#moreblogvember

Silvery blue💙

There is a thin line of magic at the point where the silvery sea and sky meet - the point your eyes can not see or reach but you know it is there.

Today I sat and felt that magic. Himself and I sipped hot tea as we munched on fruit cake, Moss lay at our feet in the sublime sunshine.  These last couple of days have been perfect and they have filled my heart. I will share some small stories from my weekend  - I promise xxx

#moreblogvember

Blogtober day 6 - the autumnal light edition

After days of high wind and torrential rain - today was absolutely sublime. The light and the clear blue skies were such a relief and a delight.

I was working in the walled kitchen garden today and along with the apprentice and volunteers we just revelled in the warmth. Unfortunately most of the late summer flowers have been hammered however tomorrow I have the perfect volunteer who will painstakingly and carefully go round and deadhead anything less than ideal and the remaining flowers will certainly look the better for it.

Whilst I was teaching the apprentice how to do blackcurrant autumnal pruning my attention was caught by the palest almost translucent little cluster of mushrooms as they peeked through the fallen leaves and woodchip.

The staff are used to me abandoning my post and taking photographs of apparently banal things - however there is the most amazing magic in nearly everything I take a photo of - you just have to look for it - except dog poo ..... I am hard pressed to find anything 'magical' in that.... however I also have to record offending (yes they are very offending) lumps of poop in the park while the council try and work out a way to reach out and train those folk who seem to turn a blind eye. Good luck to them.

There is a little acer tree in the centre of the park which has, in the last day or two, turned into the most flamingly beautiful cloud of colour which stands out amongst all the other less vibrant foliage. Gorgeous. 🍁🍂

At lunch time, Moss and I wandered around the park (I say wander - we gallop around at high speed - that dog has no concept how to wander, she has one speed and it is 'high speed'! 🙄🐾😄) Any hoo, we walked galloped our way around the bottom of the bowling green as I'd spotted all the wind damaged branches and leaves languishing on the perfect grass. Then my eye was caught by spider webs decorating the fencing. 

There is beauty in the smallest of corners and the most mundane of areas - you just have to look for it 😊💕

#blogtober2021