Dashing along the Levels

On Thursday I went east by train, across the Somerset Levels, sorry the photos are blurred.It’s a journey I’ve taken many times,

as I’m sure some of you have.

In 2014 the floods were really serious, you probably remember watching on TV.

Personally I’ve never seen it this bad. I feel rather guilty for all the moaning I’ve done this winter, just because I  get wet on my six minute walk to work!

 

 

A winter visit to ROSEMOOR

It’s been a few years since I last went to the winter sculpture trail at RHS Rosemoor, so I jumped at it when my friend sue suggested it. It was a bit of a bleak day weather wise, grey and overcast and with cold showers that quickly sent us in for coffee and mocha cake. Flashes of bright winter sun and rainbows kept us smiling, as did the sculpture.

Sue and I share some favourites on show, the snail makes us both smile, but the fish that she’s keen on isn’t for me. I’ve admired the work of the creator of the three ladies below for a long time, if I could afford it and had space I’d buy them!

This striking piece above stands just before you enter the main garden, I think the RHS have commissioned it for Rosemoor.

But it might be this one, we were struggling with sideways rain at that point!

On through the garden, there were pieces that would fit anywhere,

We headed to the lake, a tranquil place in all seasons.

Then a sideways diversion to the veggie garden, to shelter from a shower again.


Via this little path, isn’t the light gorgeous?

and then this graceful creature watched quietly as we strolled to Lady Anne’s house.

We had a little walk in Lady A’s garden, but it was gone 3pm and hadn’t eaten a thing since sharing the cake at 11.30, but this is one of the pretty paths she created.

Of course, we’d missed lunch, but instead we shared a savoury afternoon tea of cheese scone with local chutney and posh crisps.

In case you’re wondering, my favourite sculpture this year are the beautitul pine cones!

For the first time in ages, I’m sharing this stroll with lovely Jo for her Monday Walks.

Have a good week.

The thing that’s not called writers block

Well here I am again , stuck in the in the same old block.This one of my first posts from 2011 and no one saw it. I persisted though and until the last year I was posting regularly even if it was more about photography than writing.
So what now? I keep saying I’ll catch up, I’ll make some time at the weekend, blah blah blah and I do love the blogosphere and the lovely people I meet here. I’m staying.

Lucid Gypsy

I’m back. From two weeks and two thousand miles in Turkey where I have seen things fit to make even my hair curlier. I started with well meaning intentions of keeping my travel journal (thank god I resisted buying a sexy new one). Within twenty four hours the intentions had become ‘As long as I keep some notes my photos will help to fill the gaps’. Within seventy two hours I was thirty six behind. Hot, thirty eight degrees (where does that tiny round symbol hide on the keyboard?), getting tired from not sleeping on board hard beds and rising too early. Because we need to get moving ahead of the traffic, because we have to get there before the cruise ship spillage, because we have three hundred kilometres today, making me crabby, I’m on holiday right? Right but you didn’t want to lie on a beach G.

The damn…

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My last October squares

I haven’t posted squares every day, but I did gather together  more than I’ve posted so here are my last four.

I’m sure I’m not alone in looking forward to Becky’s next square challenge, many thanks lovely lady!

 

Layers through the lens

Amy has a brilliant challenge this week. She has shared photos of Plitvice in Croatia, a place that’s been on my radar for a while. I’d love to see the waterfalls that have inspired Amy’s theme of layers for this weeks Lens Artist challenge.

My pics are from Florence, a glorious city with layers of history and jaw dropping art.

Amy and the team would love to see your interpretation of Layers if you’d like to join in

A little Sunday poem

A Blackbird fell

Have you ever wondered
what happens to the birds?
sparrows entertain us town folk
rewarding us for gardens treats
the seeds and nuts we deem delicious
dangling from pretend trees

a thrush will mine a snail
from its private caravan
but no bird seems to eat a slug
or prehistoric chuggy pig

daring robins flits beside us
hoping we’ll expose a worm or two
as we dig weeds and turn our soil
they love to splash en masse
in a plant pot saucer spa

but what happens at the end of the day?
perhaps our trees are secret cemeteries
with little niches full of tiny corpses in decay
have you ever wondered what happens to the birds
a blackbird fell at my feet today.