Now I know that many of you experience months of frost and snow every winter, but recently it’s only occurred three or four times a year here. So I rarely get a chance to take icy photos. This morning my car told me it was -1 degrees, and the ground over in the fields was frozen. It was a brilliant blue sky day though and the frost in the hedgerows was slowly melting.
Apparently it will rain for the next seven days now, so I’m glad I caught the pretty cold stuff while I could. Rain means a temperature rise of eight to ten degrees, thanks goodness because the heat wasn’t working in my office on Friday, not much fun sitting still in 14 degrees!
Hedge laying is an ancient skill, it’s been around since the 16th century when landowners had to contain their livestock, because of the acts of enclosure. Different styles of laying can be seen around the country, and laying takes place in winter when there are no birds nesting and before the sap rises.
When I walked in the valley park this morning, the hedge between what I call the middle and bottom fields, had been recently laid. It’s opened up the view from the middle field at the rear of this photo way across the hills on the west of the estuary.
I’m glad the skills are still kept alive, but I can’t help wondering what the foxes make of it.
It’s Tina’s turn to choose the them for the Lens Artist Photo Challenge this week. She has beauties, I love her blue window. I’ve decided to have a mix of nature and art, you can even see me making a curve.
This is my first lens artist post for a while, are you joining in this week?
My first poem of the year was inspired by this painting by my mum Pat, thank you!.
A sense of woodland
Trudging through mud and leaf litter,
with his faithful companion Ned
a man surveys the landscape,
testing his path with a stick
from the same birch wood.
At the gate the dog pauses,
paw suspended, alert, ears wide,
and the pungent stench of vixen,
barely perceptible to human senses,
overwhelms its olfactory nerve.
A gleam of solstice light falls
on a startle of rabbit, a clear acre distant.
The man fumbles for his pipe and baccy,
scrapes squelchy leaves from his soles.
Ned flops with a disappointed grunt,
a screech of jays laugh from naked branches.
Then once more the silence is palpable.
What’s inspiring you right now?
Indian summer, sun shines on rosehips.
Six Word Saturday
I went for a walk with Flora and George at the Eastern fields this afternoon and there was more spindle than I’ve ever seen.
These aren’t colours of nature that present themselves in the UK very often, and I’m always thrilled when they do.
I know Becky won’t mind another pink square
The hedgerows are changing colour as we transition from summer to autumn, and there are subtle shades of pink if you look closely. This was in the valley park yesterday, where Flora and George wore themselves out chasing swallows.
I hope you’re all feeling in the pink today, have a relaxed Sunday and join Becky’s challenge.
If you’re a certain age, you may have been given Rose Hip Syrup as a child. The bright red round and oval gems were used as a tonic to prevent winter colds because they’re rich in vitamin C. But did you also know they were baked in tarts, added to wine, marmalade and made into soup? Best of all, they were used as anti varicose vein tea!
Now, the only thing I’ve ever done with haws is mix them with crab apples to make jelly, what about you? Well apparently, since Roman times the cheerful sprays of berries have been picked not just for jellies and jams, but to make wine and as a cure for the headaches that drinking might have caused! Women also gathered them for dyeing their hair, I touched mine up yesterday, I wonder if it’s worth a try.
I’ve always fancied myself as a medicine woman, a curandera, perhaps in a previous life.
It looks like summer is ending.
The still life at my feet
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