Come away with the raggle taggle gypsy-o
Michelle at the Daily Post describes harmony as,
“the quality of forming a pleasing and consistent whole.”
There is a beautiful sculpture garden, Broomhill, that I’ve featured in the past, and when I saw that the challenge this week was Harmony, this photo popped out.
So perfectly placed
to reflect the harmony
of nature and art
Bystock pools in March
waiting anticipating
waking dragonflies
Jude’s new challenge has begun, and much as I’ll miss her bench challenge, garden photography is something I love. The theme for January is Winter Gardens, not the easiest when so much is dormant in damp, grey England. She doesn’t mind if we use photos from our archives and luckily I have a few from a visit to Rosemoor a few years ago.
Every winter they have a sculpture exhibition with fascinating pieces displayed throughout the garden, Jude if you’ve never been in winter I recommend it.
Interesting bark like the Acer Griseum in the first photo, and bright golden bamboo adds an extra element when flowers are scarce.
Brightly coloured conifer is a bonus too.
Silver birch always glow beautifully, especially when planted in groups.
Rosemoor is an RHS garden, so of course they know what they’re doing, and good hard landscaping stands out in winter.
This summerhouse is a nice spot, for a bit of a sit down.
Aren’t these doves a delight, perfectly placed, they could almost be real.
This isn’t the first time I’ve posted about Rosemoor in Winter, but in case you’ve known me a long time, I’ve used different photos.
For this week’s challenge, take a moment to notice your now, and share a photo of it. Perhaps it is something imperfect, or mundane, or under-appreciated. Maybe it is a simple moment, or maybe it is something grand; we can’t wait to see!
I went for a walk under a grey sky yesterday and had just driven off towards home, when I spotted something that told me when now was. I though it was quite a good fit for Jen’s challenge at the Daily Post.
I case you can’t make it out, the clock commemorates Queen Victoria’s 60th Jubilee in 1897. Then I scrolled through my reader and came across this post from Bossymama, showing a much more sophisticated version, what a coincidence!
A few miles east of my beloved Exe, lies the river Otter, in an area of outstanding natural beauty and an important resting place for migratory birds. The estuary is at Budleigh Salterton, another favourite place and the start of my stroll on the evening of August 3rd. Keeping the cricket field on your left, go through the kissing gate and the path is parallel to the river.
The sea is behind to us on the right just out of this photo.
You can just about make it out beside the red cliff.
The tide is on its way in.
Someone’s been busy!
Wading bird heaven, it’s a pity I’m too hopeless to capture them!
The path ahead.
With plenty of sloes in the hedge.
and a wonderful canopy of oak.
On the left side of the path, a ditch full of life is the boundary between the path and the marshy field.
I’ve always called this White Bridge, I’m not sure if that’s the actual name, but when my children were little it was the turning point of the walk for us. If you cross here, and turn right, back towards the sea, you will reach the south west coast path. I’ve walked a little bit of it there, but it’s a knee killer! Better to keep going, about two miles to the village of Otterton with it’s lovely mill and a nice pub. I remember starting at Budleigh one evening many years ago, walking the two and a half miles and having a nice pub meal. The problem was just because we set off on a sunny evening didn’t mean we’d return on one. We had to walk back in the dark. Beyond White Bridge the path is grass and uneven earth. There are no houses or lights to be seen and every so often a cow or three would loom out of the darkness over the fence. Our return walk was a lot faster than the pootle out!
This time we turned back.
Enjoyed the flora.
Aha, gotcha.
I knew there had to be birds somewhere. Otters have returned to the Otter, I think the dogs could smell them, they got excited a few times. Much as I’d like to see one I’d rather the dogs weren’t with me, if they chased after one they wouldn’t come off too well.
The light was changing quite quickly.
The estuary curves around the end of the pebble beach, beneath the red sandstone cliffs.
It’s nice when walks are circular, but here I like having the outwards and inward views of beautiful Devon. This is a walk I never tire of. all year round.
I’m sharing this with Jo but I think I’ve probably missed the boat, heyho never mind, there’s always another Monday. Happy walking wherever you are.
This week, share a photographic “Oops!” moment with us. The fiasco could be what’s in the picture: anything broken, jumbled, or otherwise cringe-worthy (ugly sweaters are encouraged!). Or it could be something in the photo-taking itself, from the tip of your finger ruining a meticulously framed panorama to an inopportune shadow messing up a family portrait.
So Ben at the Daily Post is giving me the opportunity to show something I excel at, taking photos on the wonk! Most noticeable on my coastal horizons, the ones below are all taken in Devon.
It would seem that I favour a dizzy-making right hand down, OOPS.
. . . over the elements, the coach, the lack of fitness?
As many of you know, I often head for the coast at Exmouth straight from work on a summer evening. Quite frequently, while I sit and fill my tummy with fish and chips, a group of people are down there on the sand exercising like crazy.
Over on the east end of the beach is Orcombe Point, the cliffs there are red sandstone and they mark the beginning of the Jurassic coast. If the tide is out you can walk around the rocks to a separate beach or at the top of the cliffs walk the South West Coast Path to Sandy Bay, Budleigh Salterton, Ladram, Sidmouth and beyond.
It’s from around these cliffs that my victors appear. I expect that sometimes they run along the sand, but just as often they paddle, wade or swim around to Exmouth.
Note the guy in black, he’s the coach and as the Commando camp is nearby, I wonder if he is a Royal Marine.
And they’re out and running along the beach.
Come along at the back, you can do it!
Just when they think they’re in the clear, he has them back in the sea.
This lazy Gypsy’s only exercise is walking, so I’m totally in awe of this group. They are all ages, shapes and sizes, but they have a common goal, VICTORY . . . over the elements, the coach and the lack of fitness!
Victory is the theme for this weeks photo challenge over at the Daily Post.
Whenever I get lucky enough to fly into a foreign land, I hope to see the landscape unfold through the plane window. I’ll crane my neck if necessary, around the head of a fellow passenger, known or unknown. I wonder how can you not want to see the colours of the country, the curves and lines, the density of populated areas? I remember flying over the Sahara, in total awe when a homestead was visible with nothing else for what seemed liked a hundred miles. I remember shrunken rainforest and the EastEnders bend in the Thames.
Last weeks flights were not as dramatic, but I still tried to capture what I could, yes I am that sad woman on a perpetual first time flight, with a camera pressed against the window. Here are some of the images from those flights.
Western Spain or perhaps eastern Portugal, in late September, it doesn’t look as if anything could grow there, but the rain will fall when it’s ready and the soil will spring to life.
What’s that coming over the hill, it is an ocean, the Atlantic?
Wait, I recognise this from my obsessive checking-out-the-destination-before-I-go habits, it’s the beginning of the long islands just off the Algarve coast.
Part of the Parque Natural da Ria Formosa, I’m nearly there!
Umm, as it’s my first visit to Portugal I don’t think I’ll hang around Faro above, too long.
Closer to home, there was a lot of cloud cover, with tempting peeps at the south west of England below, and there was a definite change in the landscape. As soon as we crossed the English Channel, I knew exactly where we were.
This is Paignton, a seaside town 25 miles from home, the pier is just visible.
This is the view that got me really excited, and led to me identifying Paignton and Silverton with my daughter’s help. It’s just outside Exeter on the dual carriageway heading west towards Torbay and Plymouth. The circular junction is one I like driving around, it makes you dizzy if you go fast enough – not that I’d break the speed limit of course! If you survive that one, another mile further and you reach the notorious Splatford Split, the place where the tourists get lost, confused and sometimes cause accidents when they realise they’re in the wrong lane.
I was gutted that the cloud cover hid the city centre completely and cleared 8 miles east over Silverton.
The long wide beach at Weston-Super-Mare, in north Somerset, it’s a kite paradise and although I’ve never seen it, on a clear day the Welsh coast is often visible.
This isn’t a very clear shot as far as landscape is concerned but I rather like the layers of sky, cloud and land.
So, this is my entry to this weeks photo challenge, the change I observed in the landscape, from one that was a fresh and lovely experience, to the landscape of my heart.
Lucid Gypsy 