Showing posts with label horticulture. Show all posts
Showing posts with label horticulture. Show all posts

Tuesday, November 19, 2024

First Snow

Surprise!  Snow was in the forecast, but we weren't expecting it as far south as the Midlands.  This is the first time we've had snow in November since 2010, but after weeks of gloom, I was happy that something was happening!  

I grabbed my camera, layered up, laced up my boots and headed into the garden and beyond.


Hydrangea is the gift that keeps on giving; beautiful in every season and especially now, with its transitioning blooms encrusted with ice crystals.

Further up the garden, the pine needles were glistening and bejewelled.


With Christmas closing in, the holly was on point.


Through the garden gate, the dying foliage clung to life under the virgin snow.  I didn't see another soul; the silence only broken by the muffled sounds of my footsteps and chunks of snow falling onto the ground around me (and a little down the back of my neck), disturbed by racing squirrels and landing birds.



I headed up onto the ridge.  Usually, by the time the snow arrives, it's January and the leaves have long since lost their autumn colours, leaving behind smudgy pathways blackened by mud and decay.  Today it looked magical!   


I barely noticed the cold.  Nature's awesome.  These photos were taken less than 3 minutes' walk from my garden gate and to seemingly have it all to myself made me feel very thankful and helped soften the blow of being forced to cancel plans to meet up with a friend today. 




On the way back down, I paused to capture the snow falling against suburban backdrops.


Leaving you with a short highlights video.  Stay cosy!  

First Snow of 2024

Friday, December 22, 2023

In Dreams

 


Life gets weird at this time of year.  Short days, long shadows, even longer dark nights temporarily illuminated by the glow of Christmas lights and candles, Santa trackers, gridlock on the roads, people feverishly shopping, the fog of alcohol, eating cake for lunch on a Wednesday...I could go on.   

Site of cake consumption (Archie's Attic)

After recently proclaiming that I couldn't remember the last dream I had, Morpheus was obviously listening because I've been having the most strange and vivid dreams inhabited by people and places I've had no recent connection to.  Oliver Reed abducting Gareth to take part in a stage show featuring Monty Python's Gumbys, Cillian Murphy posing as my personal and unsolicited breakfast table Art Critic, Joaquin Phoenix  donning a top hat fashioned from a continuous strip of apple peel and a generic mobile answer phone voicing my inner most thoughts and fears are just a few examples.  Most peculiar.

Many bloggers keep a diary to assist them in their blog maintenance.  Given that my musings don't neatly fit into any particular category, I tend to rely on my visual records...and judging by my recent photos, I must have been eating a lot of cheese.  They certainly seem to mirror my mind's nocturnal activity.

Night walking



A shepherd's hut in the sun

Tim Burton's Christmas Trees making their own way to his place!  Too weird?


Marilyn and her fans.  Actually, this one was taken on a recent visit to a local Antiques Centre and is on my mood board for a forthcoming photo shoot, so an explanation at least.

Generally my view when starting the car at any given point in December.



A recent experiment with intentional camera movement to capture the clouds at sunset.


Just look at the flames seemingly burning from within this property.  

I finally had a film processed from my old Pentax ME Super as it's my intention to use it more often.  The camera has been languishing in a drawer for more years than I care to admit to and so the film was definitely past its best.  I anticipated this and therefore took little care over my chosen subjects.  The resulting images were particularly grainy (even for camera film) but have a certain charm.  I may treat the camera to a service after Christmas.







In other news, here are some recent slow fashion treasures.  The bag below cost me the grand total of £2.00, simply because some of the stitching had unravelled.  The charity shop assistant told me that she wouldn't have put it on display if she'd spotted the stitching.  I repaired it within 30 minutes.  Yes me, the notorious needle dodger!  A seamstress I am not.  The Monsoon jumper also came home with me.


Some winter blues:  Levis denim jacket, Monsoon lightly quilted mini skirt and three quarter sleeve jacket.



These striking Alexa Chung Superga trainers (Vinted) are perfect for winter.  I fell for the patent black, the chunky souls and the buckle.  




A pushBUTTON navy cord dress I inexplicably listed for sale, recently fell in love with again and promptly unlisted.  I'm wearing it here with what is currently the hardest working garment in my wardrobe - a Breton roll neck jumper.  Honestly it goes with everything!  

I recall having a problem with the sleeves on this dress, but they're no longer an issue - even if Gareth told me I looked like a Victorian lady of ill repute.  Not sure if that's what the Korean designer had in mind.  According to a little internet research, the brand was founded in 2003 by Seung Gun Park and takes its name from a song by Madonna, who is cited as the designer's personal muse.  Combining avant-garde silhouettes with a streetwear edge, clothing features twisted seams, draped silhouettes and ruched details.  

The price tags attached to this label are way out of my league.  Online retailers specialising in luxe labels and emerging designers are slashing prices of dresses by this designer to around £700 from their original price tags of just over £1,000.  I think I paid around £7.00.  Clearly this isn't a household name as yet.  Isn't the fashion world strange?


I've also spent a little time nurturing my houseplants, repotting and splitting where necessary.  My cast iron plant (currently priced at £30.00 from Ashwood Nurseries) is now two cast iron plants and mother and daughter are doing OK.  However, the Chinese Money plant and Dracaena are both suffering from dry soil.  Each time I water them, the water runs straight through and when I leave them in the bath for a few hours to take water from the roots, the soil still feels very dry - even a couple of inches below the surface.  Also no matter what I do, I cannot rid the Dracaena of its brown tipped leaves.  Neither plant requires repotting.  Any suggestions?  Maybe I need to take King Charles' advice and talk to them.


Today I had a lovely catch up with friends, Helen Wayne, Redford, Saffy the fox hound, assorted felines (and fridge sentries) and new addition, the cutest spotty eared Jack Russell puppy I've ever seen, Scout.  I didn't bother them with my camera, but Saffy and Redford are just too darned handsome not to share with you.  Scout's too young to give permission.  Here they are, presumably photographed by the obviously extremely dextrous Saffy on Saffy's very own Instagram account @saffyfoxhound.

Redford

  
Saffy

Helen and I had a memorable encounter buying coffees near Stourport's riverside basin, from a business owner who has mastered the art of appearing simultaneously irritated and disappointed when receiving customers.  We're planning to return, armed with a list of hygiene inspection style questions to keep him on his toes.  Three can play at that game!  The drinks were fine I should clarify.

Helen also gave me this beautiful basked of hyacinths, so soon we'll be appreciating their intoxicating fragrance.




I'll leave you with a shot of an angel from our Christmas tree, now taking flight courtesy of the magic of double exposure...and my early Christmas present, a re-issued single of Fairytale of New York at the request of Shane MacGowan's family with all proceeds going to the Simon Project, a charity assisting Dublin's homeless community.




Wishing you a Christmas full of festive pies, peace and people you love!




Saturday, September 17, 2022

Farewell Summer, Hello Autumn

 

Long time no speak!  It feels particularly autumnal here right now.  I've already consumed the lion's share or not one, but two, crumbles (an apple and blackberry and a cherry), have had hairy encounters with a couple of muscle-bound spiders and the nights are most definitely drawing in. 

Betws-y-Coed, "False Autumn", August 2022

Events have conspired in recent weeks to keep me from the keyboard.  I'm now pretty familiar with the labyrinth of corridors and departments that is our local hospital after accompanying Mom to various appointments and also suddenly being called in myself for a minor op I had been waiting almost a year for.  

I went in bright and early a couple of Sundays ago and almost had the ward to myself.  The staff were attentive and thorough and by lunchtime, I was done.  So far so simple I thought.  Not so.  I was prescribed a course of antibiotics - a belt and braces approach to infection avoidance, which I started taking later that day.  But on Wednesday morning, I noticed I had what appeared to be a black eye.  As I examined my reflection in a mirror, the area around my eye was swelling before my eyes (well my good eye), transforming me into the Phantom of the Opera.  

I hurriedly arranged an appointment with my GP and was told to stop taking the antibiotics and immediately start taking antihistamines, as there was no infection in my wound.  I had a tense 7 days, waking each morning and wondering where the swelling would be that day or if it would worsen.  It seemed to move around my face each morning until eventually, it dissipated.  I was told that it could possibly have been a reaction to the antibiotics, but that such swelling is also a very common reaction to illnesses such as flu (I have had a sniffle).  Who knew?

My latest look was born of necessity until my stitches were removed.  

I have also been busy organising my forthcoming photoshoot, which, now falls on a designated UK Bank Holiday, courtesy of Queen Elizabeth II's funeral.  Mercifully, not one member of our little team of suppliers has backed out.  We've all invested far too much time and effort to abandon our plans at this late stage.

Consequently - and with our first Autumn ground frost this morning - it seems like an age ago that we were basking in the balmy Welsh sunshine.

I'm going to rewind to the final couple of days of our getaway and our pilgrimage, on foot from the village, to one of the most remote churches in the UK, Llangelynnin Old Church.  Positioned high on the hills above the Conwy Valley, some 900 feet above sea level, the church is dedicated to a local Saint, St Celynnin who lived in the 6th Century and probably established the first religious settlement on this site.  

The views on the ascent were stunning.


It's hard to convey the isolation, but I did my best with some wide angle shots and a short video.

Within the church grounds, lies the Holy Well.  It's possible that this was used by the Saint in the 6th century as a water supply or to baptise those who converted to Christianity.  As time passed, locals believed the water to have magical healing properties, particularly for sick children.  Clothing belonging to the sick children would be tossed into the water.  If they floated, it was assumed that the child would recover.


People lived in the uplands before the wooded lowlands were cleared and the present hill tracks would have been the main routes in Celynnin's time.  The church as it stands today dates from the 12th century and was in regular use for worship until 1840 when a new church was built down in the valley.  In 1932 and 1987 major restorations of the church were carried out and now services are held here during the summer months and on special occasions.


The porch is 15th century with an unusual squint window in the east wall.  The porch roof was repaired with purlins of yew, which may have grown in the now almost tree-less graveyard.


The threshold and hinges of the door are believed to be 14th century, although the door itself is a later addition.



The nave is the oldest part of the present church, dating back to the 12th century.  The benches are 19th century.  Hanging on the wall of the nave there is a bier that was used to carry the remains of the dead to their final resting place.


The chancel is probably 14th century.  You can just glimpse the remains of a boarded barrel roof in the photo above.

This fascinating skull and crossbones detail was discovered a when layers of time and whitewash were removed, revealing the Ten Commandments in Welsh.

Back outside, the clouds were playing to the camera...


...and I managed to capture a beautiful sunburst.


The North Wales Pilgrims' Way framed by the churchyard entrance.


A special place indeed...and for the record, after this particularly energetic workout, I should have doused myself in water from that Holy Well to ease my aching thighs for the next few days.  For more on St Celynnin's, here's a short video.

Wild, Windy Worship. - YouTube

Of course, we couldn't leave this part of Wales without paying a visit to Bodnant Garden, an NT managed, Grade I listed horticultural gem comprising 80 acres, just 10 minutes' drive from our cottage.


It was founded in 1874, developed by five generations of one family and given to the National Trust in 1949.  The garden's founder was Henry David Pochin, a Leicestershire-born Victorian industrial chemist credited with inventing white soap.  He became a successful businessman, mayor and JP.  His wife, Agnes, was from a wealthy Scottish family of ship builders.  

Originally just lawns and pasture, Pochin and his employee Edward Milner redesigned the land around the Georgian manor house, relandscaping the hillside and valley, planting American and Asian conifers on the banks of the River Hiraethlyn to create a Pinetum and reinforcing stream banks to create a woodland and water garden in the valley.  





It was here we encountered this fallen giant (originally planted in 1887 and standing over 50 metres tall), one of 50 lost in Storm Arwen back in November 2021.  

The enormous team of 20 full time gardeners were hard at it, burning rubbish just out of sight from visitors.


In the upper garden, a Laburnum Arch was created and glasshouses to house exotics.  






From 1905 to 1914, five terraces were completed; an enormous undertaking of manual labour involving the levelling of hillsides, movement of earth and the construction of granite buttress walls to protect the tender plants being introduced from overseas.


The much photographed Pin Mill building on the Canal Terrace was added in 1938.  Originally built as a garden house in 1739 in Gloucestershire and later used as a pin factory and then a hide store for a tannery, it was rescued from decay by Henry's grandson - Henry McLaren, who dismantled it, brought it to Bodnant and rebuilt it brick by brick.  





As you might expect, there was a fountain or a statue at every turn.





Situated on a steeply winding path running from the valley to the terraces, was the family Mausoleum. Sadly it was closed to visitors on the day of our visit....  






....but I did manage to get a glimpse inside through the impressive entrance door panel grills.


Throughout the 1900s the continued development of the garden was a partnership between three generations of the McLaren family - Henry, Charles and Michael.  Charles' sister, Dr Anne McLaren, was one of Britain's leading scientists.  She pioneered techniques of reproductive biology, which led to IVF and cancer research.  The current owner is Michael McLaren, who inherited in 2003.  He is a practising Barrister, working in London, but continues to act as garden manager.  A family of high achievers for sure, but also philanthropists.  It's not lost on the volunteers and locals just how much they are indebted to the McLaren family, who have saved huge swathes of the Conwy valley from development.  





Bodnant is hands down the best National Trust garden we've visited to date, but one visit just isn't enough to grasp the scale, detail and myriad plant species on display.  We shall return.


I'll leave you with a few random photos from the past couple of weeks.  First up, a photo I am calling "Portrait of a Stall Holder" captured at an Antiques Fair at Hartlebury Castle in neighbouring Worcestershire. I loved her vintage style, which was well suited to her life as an antiques trader. 


She is also the proud owner of this cool ride, a 1959 Edsen Villager Cruiser.




I helped fund her expensive running costs by purchasing some vintage decorative green glass tableware for the boudoir.



Also green - and I suppose quite decorative - is this punk amongst caterpillars.  Feast your eyes on this fuzzy noodle of fun!  It's a Pale Tussock caterpillar and the first I've ever seen!  Spotted outside our 


Take care, stay warm and I'll see you soon. 

A Fond Farewell

We've all heard of the proverbial "pain in the neck."  Well, for the longest time, I've been waking up with a cricked neck...