Category Archives: Garden

SIMPLE PLEASURES.

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I have taken people’s advice and I’m slowly recovering. Muscles ache in the most unusual places. Taking advantage of the remarkable spell of weather, most days I go for a short wander up on the fell or call in at Craigy for a chat with the climbers there. My garden is getting a good weeding, in short bursts.

This is a good opportunity to highlight the trees in the garden, as most mornings, they greet me when I draw the curtains. It’s not quite dawn, but this is an attempt to capture the bird song in the trees. Using ‘Merlin’, I counted 15 species in 10 minutes. I do have fields behind the garden. I only wish I could see most of them! Turn the volume up. 

House Sparrow, Robin, Wood Pigeon, Wren, Song Thrush, Mallard, Blue Tit, Blackbird, Greenfinch, Jay, Goldfinch, Dunnock, Pheasant, Jackdaw, Great Tit.

Whilst out and about, I am pleased to see the return of the Great Crested Grebes, a little late this year. They have built a floating nest, and every time I pass by, the male is out fishing or collecting more nest material whilst she sits tight. One day, I had a glimpse of the empty nest, and there was certainly one egg there, perhaps two; time will tell.

Catching a picture of my two lively kittens is becoming much harder.

Simple pleasures.

A GENTLE RETURN.

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Out with, but not gone to, the dogs.

My son and partner visit from Manchester with their two dogs.

I keep the kittens locked in their large cage, but the dogs only sniff them in passing. I think it would be different if they were running loose. Anyhow, we are not in for long as we take the dogs for some exercise in the plantation up the fell.

The good weather continues, but I haven’t ventured much further than the garden. An hour’s weeding tires me out. My back is still very sore, so I’m unable to wear a rucksack — a reminder to take it easy. However, the chance to have a walk, no matter how short, is too good to miss.

The dogs know their way around the plantation and once in the open run themselves silly before cooling off in the stream.

We enjoy the dry paths, all the new greenery and the abundant bird song. There is always time for some tree hugging.

Hardly more than a mile, but invigorating for me to be out and about again. It’s good to be alive, a hackneyed phrase, but simple pleasures with the family are precious.

A sociable lunch and the family head home.

I head to bed almost straight away and sleep for 12 hours.

GARDENING LEAVE.

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After last week’s drama, my family have put me on ‘gardening leave’, with strict instructions not to go wandering in the hills or climbing at Craig Y. I’m happy to go along with that as I’m still tired, very bruised and stiff following my chair encounter and subsequent hospital stay.  I couldn’t shoulder a rucksack at present. And so much is happening in the garden at this time of year.

I’ll try not to step on a rake, put a fork through my foot or chop off any fingers.

Trust me to be laid up when the weather is set fair; ah, well, there will be more days like this, I hope, in summer.

And as a bonus, I have more time to watch the antics of Dusty and Oscar.

SMALL PLEASURES.

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Looking out of the kitchen window today, I spy this young hedgehog nibbling on some of the catfood.

I know, or rather I hope, that the family is still about in the garden.  They have a home at the back and regularly forage across the lawn.

I keep meaning to install a motion camera to watch nocturnal activities.

Anyhow, it is a joy to observe this little creature.

My Wiltshire travels are on hold until my new laptop arrives, but I should be able to post this from my phone.

ONE TWO THREE.

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As you can see, I’m rather incapacitated at present. I have had my first cataract operation, on the right eye, last week. Until it improves I have lost my stereoscopic binocular vision. I’m having trouble judging distances, my world is temporarily two dimensional for the most part. Simple little tasks like pouring a teapot need a lot of concentration to avoid missing the cup altogether. Even hitting the right keys on the keyboard is not straight forward. Driving is on hold for a few days. There will be no walks for awhile. Hence this more mundane post today.

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The operation was a little complicated for reasons I won’t go into, taking twice as long as usual and needing all the skill of the surgeon of whom I’m in awe. Lying perfectly still for three quarters of an hour wasn’t easy. Anyhow I’m on the mend, the shield has now come off except for night time and the blurriness is receding  One drawback, though essential, is having to use eyedrops every four hours. I set my alarm to remand me six times a day and to get me up for the 4am dose. The second operation, on my left eye, is due in August when I will go through it all again.

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This week whilst resting up I have had a series of appliance failures, electrical rather than bodily this time. I knew my microwave was ‘on the blink’ ( no direct reference to my eye problems) so before surgery I payed a visit to our local friendly electric shop and came home with a new microwave. Amazingly I was able to purchase the simplest version with not a digital screen in sight, just two knobs – timer and power.  Just like they used to be. P1070260

At the same time my expresso coffee machine, which has done good service over maybe 20 years, started to cut out. I suspect the thermostat is malfunctioning but in this throwaway society there is no chance of repair. My morning coffee is essential so I was starting to get withdrawal symptoms. Unfortunately the shop doesn’t sell these machines so I have to revert to the internet, I normally always try to buy local. What a complex subject with some versions costing up to a thousand pounds for the barista touch. Lakeland Plastics have a reasonably priced version just coming out but in their sale was the old version at half price. It arrives promptly in the largest cardboard box possible. I’m getting the hang of it, time will tell how reliable it will be. P1070266

They say things come in threes and yesterday I noticed my freezer had stopped working, possibly without my knowledge for a few days. Everything was well and truly defrosted and beyond safely saving. My job today was to empty it. Bread, cakes and pizzas have gone to the birds – I have a hungry family of blackbirds.  The vegetables and prepared soups etc were loaded into the barrow to boost the compost heap. What a shame. I haven’t thought about a replacement as yet. P1070234

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All this has me thinking – where does the expression ‘things come in threes’ – good as well as bad, come from?

The number three has historical as well as folklore relevance. The Holy Trinity and The Three Wise Men from the bible. The Trimurti triad in Hinduism.  Literature and Fairy Tales have three bears, three wishes, and three challenges. In everyday life we suggest the best of three and count to three before a race. Three darts. Three Lions. Three Bells.

The origins remain unclear but we continue to use it. Psychologists suggest that by accepting a limit of three we subconsciously create an end point and hope our bad luck will cease. Obviously there is no evidence to support bad luck occurring in threes, randomness prevails. We forget the times when bad luck didn’t occur in threes and hence perpetuate the the theory.

So my three bad luck stories this week are purely coincidental and there may be another one around the corner. Or lets hope for some good luck stories, preferably in threes.

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Whilst taking my defrozen food to the compost heap I am assailed by a deep sweet rose scent coming from rambling Bobbie James. I leave you with a picture of him, you will have to imagine the scent.

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I can’t help thinking that despite my troubled week I have come up smelling of roses.

BOTH SIDES OF THE RIBBLE – A MITTON ROUND.

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Its four years since I last did this walk. https://bowlandclimber.com/2020/07/07/the-ribble-between-mitton-and-clitheroe/   

I’m up early. Seth, my cat, demands his breakfast at 6am.. Out of the kitchen window the Weigela shrub is looking splendid in the morning sunshine, a good start to the day.

P1060325P1060326Too good to go back to bed. I’m motivated to get out there and do a walk. This one springs to mind. 

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I’m parked in Mitton by 9am, a record for me. This time I walk the route clockwise. Leaving the road down a tree tunnel and I’m into open meadows. The grass is still damp from the overnight dew. Vast open blue skies surround me and entice me onwards, it’s that sort of morning. The way is not clear but I follow my nose between the occasional stile. Glimpses of Kemple End vie with the view of Waddington and Easington Fells ahead of me. Territorial fishing interests keep me away from the Ribble at this stage. 

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The public footpath comes to an end on a little lane, ahead is a busy road but fortunately a concessionary path has been established to meet up with the Ribble and follow it into Clitheroe. (shown only as a black dotted line on the OS map) The signage says head for the yellow circle which unfortunately I can’t see. Heading in the right direction it becomes apparent at a gate next to the ‘bear chair’, which is looking worse for wear.P1060342P1060343P1060346

The path drops steeply down through the woods to run alongside a loop of the Ribble. I haven’t met anybody so far but spot dogwalkers on the opposite bank which I’ll be following shortly.  P1060348P1060350P1060354

Out through the damp woods to the road at Edisford, Pub and Bridge. The signage is rather strict and restrictive but at least the concessionary path exists – too many of our river banks are no go areas. P1060355P1060356P1060359

This stretch of river, on the outskirts of Clitheroe, is a popular picnic spot due to nearby parking and also an adjacent camp site. Even early today there are people in the water, which incidentally has just received DEFRA designated bathing water status – whatever that means. There are more dogs in the water than humans however.  P1060363P1060369P1060366The path now continues back along the true left bank of the river. I’ve seen Kingfishers here, but not today.  One is soon away from the razzmatazz of the picnic area only to find oneself on the busy little road to Clitheroe’s Waste Recycling centre. Past this there are only a few houses before the road ends and one is back into fields close to the river. I notice a reminder of the Covid restrictions and on the water Canada Geese are protecting their young whilst fishermen discus the best spot. 

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The river is very calm along this stretch with only one weir for measuring the flow.P1060386

The cows are back in the fields but seem very docile, too intent on chewing the new grass. Pendle Hill doesn’t look far away, synonymous with the Ribble Valley.P1060385

I’m approaching the end of the walk and the path climbs up onto a promontory above the river. This sandy cliff is home to hundreds of Sand Martins at this time of year and they fill the sky, too fast to photograph. There are lots in the photograph below.P1060394

Across the river are the Church and Hall of Great Mitton and then I arrive at the road next to the Aspinall Arms, before they open for the day and too soon for a pint.  Once a coaching inn known as the Mitton Boat. A ferry boat operated across the River Ribble before the present road bridge was built in the C19th. This was the border between Lancashire and Yorkshire before the reorganisation.P1060395P1060396

I re-cross the river on another fine stone bridge and this is where you get that long view of the River Ribble winding its way under the gaze of Pendle. A view I never tire of. P1060400

Once safely over, it is a busy road, I climb up the hill to admire the old Hall. P1060403

The Three Fishes across the road has reopened as a fine dining venue, out of my price range I fear.P1060405

And there, next to where I parked my car, is All Hallows Church, dating from the C16th. P1060470

It has an interesting interior which I had been denied before, but the church was open today so I got to explore – but I think I will leave that to another post on a rainy day, along with Dandy, the black dog of Clitheroe!

This has been an easy four and a half mile walk in perfect weather with lots of variety, which I’m sure most of you would enjoy.  

NETTLES FOR TEA.

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Last week I was dining on wild garlic and poaches eggs, a delicacy. A reader recommended wild garlic and mushroom risotto so off I went to collect more in the woods. I had to be content with bought mushrooms, there aren’t many wild edible ones at this time of the year as far as I know. A successful recipe and I had garlic leaves to spare, so froze a bag of them.

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Wild Garlic and Mushroom Risotto.

This week I turned my attention to the garden which has become a little, maybe a lot, neglected in the last two years. I didn’t have to worry about the lawn as it is ‘No mow May’. But the borders needed weeding, I donned my thick gloves and started with the nettles and brambles. Before long I had a barrow load of nettles. I set to and stripped off the youngest, freshest leaves for cooking. I have often made nettle soup before and checking a few recipes found one with wild garlic  – how convenient. I washed the nettle leaves and defrosted the frozen garlic. Cooked an onion and added the all the leaves whilst boiling a few potatoes. The latter were added, along with seasonings and left to simmer. I still use a pressure cooker for soups. Add a little cream and I had the most satisfying tea. I use ‘tea’ as in the Northern style – a substantial meal early evening. ‘Dinner’ is at lunchtime and ‘Supper’ a snack before bed. ‘Lunch’ doesn’t figure.

From garden to table. It must be full of goodness. 

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Whilst in the garden I managed to capture a shot of an Orange Tip enjoying my geraniums. These early butterflies are everywhere at the moment but had eluded my lens the other day. P1060099

TOAD IN THE HOLE.

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Those aren’t my walking boots, they are on hold for the moment, but my gardening shoes. I have a habit of leaning them upside down, to keep them dry, outside the backdoor after what is usually a short session of weeding or mowing. There they remained for a few days whilst we had an onslaught of continuous rain. You may recall the sad end to the Ashes Test at Old Trafford last week.

This morning I thought I would do a spot of rose deadheading, a relaxing activity unlikely to put a strain on any of my ongoing injuries. I shoe horn my right foot into the shoe, tying the laces. The left foot comes up against something soft and mysterious. Had I left a sock in there? Putting my fingers in I can’t dislodge the obstruction, but tapping the shoe on the floor brings out a toad to my surprise and amusement. He, they always look like a ‘he’, sits there unconcerned. I check the shoe for his mate but only find a slug presumably his lunch. Gardening is delayed whilst I retreat for another coffee. 20230725_095908(0)20230725_095903

Toad in the hole – the story relates that on an unspecified golf course a player’s ball was pushed out of the 18th hole after which the offending toad poked his head out to the amazement of the players. The chef at the golf club devised a dish immortalizing this episode; a sausage, the mole, poking its head out of the batter. This is how legends are born.

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Jamie Oliver’s Toad in the hole.

A LITTLE LONGRIDGE LITTER.

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The gardening can wait. It’s hot and stuffy and my hay fever is irritating. Time to escape to higher ground not to far away. A quick lunch and I’m parked on Jeffrey Hill. It’s not rained for days and the ground is looking parched. What is usually a boggy path is now bone dry and trainers are all I need. There is a welcome breeze, and I’m soon ‘walking on sunshine’ with the familiar panoramic Bowland Fells stretching out above the vale of Chipping. Newly cut meadows adding to the patchwork. Yorkshire’s three peaks are in the far haze.

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All very idyllic you will think, but I also choose to do a litter pick at the same time. I thought there was less rubbish than usual on the path to start with, but by the time I’d completed my 3-mile circuit my sac was full. Dog poo bags, tissues, empty water bottles, cans and strangely a pair of underpants. I declare the fell litter free – but for how long?

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As an afterthought on the way home I called into our local bouldering Craig Y Longridge to check out any litter there. I’m pleased to say there were only a couple of bottles to remove and these had probably been thrown from the road above. Well done climbers for looking after their own environment. By now the crag was in the shade and I enjoyed a bit of exercise on some of the easier problems.

Back to the garden and those weeds. 20230605_173554

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CaptureLongridge Fell

TO BEE OR NOT TO BEE.

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Last year I bought a recommended book ‘Dancing with Bees’ by Brigit Howard, though fascinated by the subject I didn’t get past the first few chapters. It remained on my bedside table along with other must read volumes. I’ve caught up on about a dozen books whilst laid low with a vicious Covid visitation. Brigit’s book is as much about reconnecting with nature as it is about bees and I have been stimulated to learn more. I took advantage of a hot sunny day and went outside to watch the bees visiting a particularly scented clump of purple Astrantia. It was overload with so many bees buzzing around, several species were noted but as for identifying them that was a different matter. Taking photos was as frustrating as with butterflies. This isn’t going to be easy. Defeated I await the arrival of a bee identification book before I try again.

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Meanwhile, I am aware of Bee Orchids growing in our local limestone quarries. I have never seen one. A chance comment from Shazza (all things nature and Clitheroe) mentioned she had spotted Bee Orchids at Crosshill Quarry, that’s all I needed. A flower Bee should be easier to observe than a flying one.

It wasn’t that easy. I parked up in Pimlico on the edge of the industrial sites of Clitheroe and headed into Crosshill Quarry nature reserve. A meadow off to the right was all a meadow was supposed to be, abundant grasses and flowers. I felt like Sherlock Holmes combing through the foliage for evidence. Purple orchids, trefoil, vetch, etc but no Bee Orchids.

I continued on to the small Quarry within the site where Shazza had reported  Bee Orchids. I searched diligently across the open quarry floor, ideal limestone habitat for a Bee Orchid, but to no avail, wishing I had asked her for a more precise location. There was a myriad of other species, marjoram, bedstraw, twayblade and other orchids.

The last time I was here on the Sculpture Trail I failed to spot the Footprints in the rock face by Tom Dagnall – I made sure I didn’t miss them today.  They were so effective, how did he carve them into the limestone? 

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Round two. There is a geological trail nearby, Salthill Quarry, which I had never visited, All was unfriendly industrial units and articulated lorries. I eventually found somewhere safe to park the car and set off more in hope than expectation. The main purpose of the trail was to highlight the rock faces and bedding planes of an old limestone quarry. Crinoid fossils predominated. I was itching to climb the shorter walls but thought better of it. The path was too enclosed for Bee Orchid habitat, I needed open spaces. Following the trail round, it could do with better interpretation boards, I came into more open ground with Pendle Hill lording above us. A fossil bench has been constructed with images of ‘sea lilies’, animals on the sea bed, that became crinoid fossils all those years ago. Backwards and forwards I combed the hillside for the elusive bee. I was by now almost back to where I had started, and I took a diversion to look at an isolated rock face on the edge of the industrial complex. Some other purple orchids took my attention and there suddenly was a Bee Orchid. It couldn’t be mistaken and then there were a couple more. By now I was down on my knees trying to zoom in for the best shot. And to think I was only 40 metres from where my car was parked inside the quarry.

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Ironically the bee mimicked by this orchid is not present in the UK, so the plant is self pollinating after all. Why is it here in the first place?

NATURE NOTES.

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*****

Every day I see a pair of Mallards sitting on my lawn. They were attracted no doubt by my small pond and the bird food I spread on the ground every morning. The fact that they are together suggests that the duck hasn’t laid any eggs yet, I cannot see any sign of a nest.

I made a rough home for a hedgehog out of reeds, twigs and leaves earlier in the year hoping to attract them into my garden. Yesterday at dusk a hedgehog wandered across the lawn. It is probably around when I’m in bed. Let’s hope for a family.  My photograph is not that good,I missed its snout.

The male pheasant who used to come for food has gone elsewhere. There is an abundance of blackbirds, robins, sparrows, starlings, great and blue tits all busy feeding their young scattered in hidden nests around the garden. A pair of magpies are no doubt doing damage to the smaller birds eggs.

These three were less welcome visitors.

Meanwhile, up on the Upper Dilworth Reservoir where I park to go bouldering in Craig Y Longridge there is quite a lot of activity. The Mallards had chicks a while back, not sure how many will survive.

The Canada Geese are showing off their youngsters.

The Tufted Ducks are just swimming around though they have nested on the island in previous years.

But the highlight of this week was watching the pair of Great Crested Grebes on the water. I have been keeping an eye on them for several weeks, I missed their mating dance. I saw them building a nest in the reeds, but the foliage growth had camouflaged it, so I didn’t know if she had laid any eggs.  I can see now that she has two chicks and is carrying them on her back whilst the male goes off diving for fish. They are quite a way out on the water, so my camera struggled to cope. The  two young are virtually invisible on her back from this distance, just a flash of white feathers, but when the male returns their heads pop up, and sometimes they take to the water. He feeds her small fish, and I’m sure he was also giving titbits to the young. What a privilege to be able to watch their family life.

While I’m bouldering in Craig Y I often hear a Wren’s alarm call, and today I saw her fly out from low down in the rock face. On investigating there was the domed mossy nest in a crack. I kept well away for the rest of my session.

Oh! And I thought my garden was looking very green. You can’t see the weeds.

PS. I called in to see some friends today after a walk, they have a rough patch of grass in front of their house, and it was full of orchids –  I’m not sure which variety, but I liked them.

A RARE VISITOR.

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In the absence of any serious walking I often pop up in the car to the small reservoir at the top of Longridge. There are a pair of Great Crested Grebes usually in evidence, diving into the depths. They apparently have a splendid mating dance but so far have not displayed it to me.

But today who should wander into my garden but this splendid Garganey drake. A rare visitor indeed.

DIY BIRD FEEDERS.

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This post from last year mysteriously disappeared and has suddenly popped up as a draft. I thought I might as well repost it.

https://community.rspb.org.uk/ourwork/b/scotland/posts/do-it-yourself-bird-feeders

In the meantime I find just throwing bird food on the ground or bird table is effective. I know there are reasons not to do so but at least I get this fine chap coming to dine most days.

RAPTOR ON THE LAWN.

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Most days I see a Sparrow Hawk flying through my garden scattering the smaller birds and sometimes disappearing with a tit or sparrow. Yesterday as if on cue, it was Hen Harrier Day celebrating our raptors – https://www.henharrierday.uk/ I noticed out of the corner of my eye a pile of feathers on the lawn and a Sparrow Hawk devouring its prey. I hastily gathered my phone and took a few shots through the kitchen window and then it was away. The feathers, there was nothing else left, were possibly from one of the collared doves that frequent the garden.

Longridge is being built up with many green spaces, hedges and trees disappearing. This will have a marked effect upon the local wildlife. Within a couple of weeks, as well as the usual birdlife I’ve watched a hedgehog walking across the lawn and now a Sparrow Hawk. I wonder for how much longer will I witness these events?

IS THERE LIFE ON MARS?

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Today or was it yesterday, accompanied by the appropriate fanfares, a space mission has been launched from Cape Canaveral due to reach Mars in February 2021. Onboard is the Perseverance Rover.

According to NASA, the Perseverance Rover has four objectives supporting the program’s science goals:

Looking for Habitability: Identify past environments capable of supporting microbial life
Seeking Biosignatures: Seek signs of possible past microbial life in those habitable environments, particularly in special rocks known to preserve signs of life over time
Caching Samples: Collect core rock and “soil” samples and store them on the Martian surface
Preparing for Humans: Test oxygen production from the Martian atmosphere

That all sounds wonderful and I’m the first to support scientific research to help mankind into the next century and beyond. None of us knows where these experiments may lead.

However, we may not get the results until halfway through the present century. The cost is billions.

So let us not lose sight of the fact we are in the middle of a viral pandemic which may yet destroy our civilisation. Earth is, again let’s not forget, experiencing global climate changes threatening to destroy our civilisation. Where is the resolve and expediency to solve those two problems? Politically we have failed to heed the medical evidence for the former and internationally we have all but given up, despite the diminutive Greta Thunberg, on the latter. Depressing thoughts I know.

So today’s news of the Mars probe doesn’t fill me with joy as it should. I’m not certain how the possible advances in science in 40 to 50 years will bring us back from the present catastrophe of our own making.

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This morning a hedgehog wandered across my lawn, the first I’ve seen this year. Apparently, they are in serious decline. If we can’t protect this wonderful creature what is the point of going to Mars. 

So I’d like to re-phrase that question.  Is there life on earth?

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And obliviously I can’t resist the girl with mousy hair – but maybe we will never know.

WOODCHOPPER’S BALL.

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I have become somewhat dilatory on the walking front despite the fact that we are allowed out more. There is nothing to stop me from driving up to Langdale and climbing the Pikes. Nothing that is except common sense. I posted a few days ago a piece from the Coniston MRT advising against fellwalking at the moment. I think I’ve become disorientated by the confusing Governments announcements giving us greater freedom and others telling us to stay at home. The death rates seem to be staying high so stay at home is the obvious choice.

At the back of my garden 40years ago I planted trees to give shelter and some privacy, They have grown to 30 or 40ft and need their crowns taking out before they grow any bigger.

Now is the time. Actually, it isn’t the best while the trees are in leaf but there you go.

Out come the ladders and the bow saw. I’m very much aware of not having an accident in these lockdown times so I securely fix my ladders, top and bottom. My climbing harness is brought into action to prevent any tumbles from a great height.

The trees have lost some limbs but suffice to say I’m typing this with all my limbs intact.

After a couple of days sawing and pruning, shredding and logging I’ve spread a decent amount of wood chippings as a mulch on my flower beds and have a nice pile of logs for my log burner next winter.

Following on from Woody Herman’s rendition above [was Woody a common factor?]  another old favourite tune came to mind –  Woodman Spare That Tree sang by Phil Harris, a regular on Saturday morning’s  Uncle Mac’s Favourites on the radio’s Light Programme back in the ’50s.  Uncle Mac would play tunes requested by children who were thrilled if their name was read out on the radio – he never played any of mine.

 

I’ve just found out that the above quirky tune was based on an original poem by George Pope Morris, 1802-64.  Set to music in 1837 by Henry Russell. It is one of the earliest known songs to champion a social cause, in this case, the preservation of nature.

Woodman, spare that tree!
⁠Touch not a single bough!
In youth it sheltered me,
⁠And I’ll protect it now.
‘Twas my forefather’s hand
⁠That placed it near his cot;
There, woodman, let it stand,
⁠Thy ax shall harm it not.

That old familiar tree,
⁠Whose glory and renown
Are spread o’er land and sea—
⁠And wouldst thou hew it down?
Woodman, forbear thy stroke!
⁠Cut not its earth-bound ties;
Oh, spare that agèd oak
⁠Now towering to the skies!

When but an idle boy,
⁠I sought its grateful shade;
In all their gushing joy
⁠Here, too, my sisters played.
My mother kissed me here;
⁠My father pressed my hand—
Forgive this foolish tear,
⁠But let that old oak stand.

My heart-strings round thee cling,
⁠Close as thy bark, old friend!
Here shall the wild-bird sing,
⁠And still thy branches bend.
Old tree! the storm still brave!
⁠And, woodman, leave the spot;
While I’ve a hand to save,
⁠Thy ax shall harm it not.

I despair at the trees cut down in our village to make way for developments. I hope that the pruning I’ve done the last few days will ensure my mature trees will survive for many more years long after I’ve gone.

 

 

 

A GARDEN SNAPSHOT.

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I’m forever extolling the fortunate privilege of having a garden to relax in during this Covid-19 lockdown.  The last month has seen record sunshine and being outside without risk of encountering the virus has been a bonus, despite the extra work I’ve found for myself.

As the weather is changing I’ll probably be busy inside the house so here are a few pictures as I wander around the garden. In 2017  I posted a month by month view of my garden but as you can see April is one of the most colourful and promising months of the year. Award yourself a prize if you can correctly identify them all…

and I can’t resist a couple of good sunsets…

All that without leaving the house, I’m so lucky compared to many..