True Colours

What a bleak week for news; predictions of a winter of discontent, racism rearing its ugly face yet again on the football terraces, the Queen voicing her concerns that leaders are all mouth and trousers (I'm paraphrasing), and terrorism in Norway and on home turf, resulting in the murder of 5 Norwegian citizens and British MP Sir David Amess.  I'm sure I'm not alone in wanting to push a big button marked RESET or REWIND.

We also watched - and abandoned - the widely publicised Squid Games.  I'm no shrinking violet, but even I felt that the violence was gratuitous, even allowing for the subtext (which somehow felt a little patronising and something of an excuse to me).  Life's too short for such stark TV viewing.  

We've been recovering still from the so called "super cold" in circulation and my back has been playing up, so, aside from a couple of walks, my extra curricular activities this week would be best summarised as "pottering" often at a 70 degree angle.

As an antidote to the last 7 days, this post is going to be about light and colour.

I purchased next year's tulips from Ashwood Nurseries. 

First up, the beautiful peony flower, two tone, rhubarb and custard variety Wirosa.

Next, the rather exotic sounding and looking Ali Baba to complement the Wirosa tulips.

And finally, Spring Green, the same variety of tulips I planted last year.  I foolishly threw away the packaging, so promptly forgot their name.  I had also failed to notice that they were a late flowering variety, only to be reminded of this possibility in a desperate phone call I made to Ashwood Nurseries, enquiring why my tulips weren't blooming (the shame!).

I've also been foraging - not for food, but for Autumn foliage.  I love the transitioning colours and am quite partial to dead flowers and seed heads for their architectural properties.  I haven't contravened any laws as no plants were dug up in the production of these creations.  I just selected the odd bent flower, seed head or sprig taken by the wind.

This year's fig crop has been a huge success.  Usually I count at least 20 figs, only to discover at the optimum time of ripening, that they have been stolen by some as yet unidentified thief.  Our chief suspects:-

1.  The grey squirrel (my winter nemesis, as he can overcome literally any obstacle to gorge himself on bird seed from the feeder).

2.  The humble wood pigeon.  

Whoever is responsible, we believe that Lotte has taken on fig defending duties and repeatedly given chase this year as I have enjoyed feasting on numerous ripe figs.  (I can also forgive Lotte her nocturnal shenanigans this week, the triple hairball offering and her inexplicable abseiling of my clothes airer).

Funnily enough, I thought I didn't like figs (flashbacks to early 80s fig roll biscuits), but I have acquired a taste for them now and they look so beautiful when sliced into quarters.  I'm the only one in our household too, so get to eat them all!

I decided to jump on the food photography bandwagon (apparently it's very now) - something I've never really tried.

Also, check out this aptly named Zombie F1 hybrid pumpkin Gareth picked up from Morrisons.  It's warty enough for Halloween but definitely too beautiful to carve.  It's a keeper!

Back in the garden, the ladybirds are out in force.  I have a small, bright yellow garden table and this seems to have attracted the little beauties in spades, offering up a wonderful ready made outdoor studio setting with Autumn leaves as props.

Finally, on our walk yesterday, we encountered not one, but a flight of doves.  This is very current.  The John Lewis home insurance ad has attracted numerous complaints, forcing the company to put out a statement defending their decision to feature a boy in a dress.  I couldn't give a fig about this.  I think the advert is infectious, theatrical and exuberant and when the soundtrack is Stevie Nicks' White Winged Dove, what's not to like?  

Let life happen - John Lewis Home Insurance - YouTube

Peace all.

Cold, Cold Heart

 

I find that whenever I have to set an alarm, I sleep lightly, stirring frequently in the hour or so prior to the designated wake up time.  Last Saturday was no exception and so I was ready when the 7.30 am alarm call sounded.  I think adrenalin and excitement had kicked in, as I was booked to accompany a lovely local wedding photographer as her second shooter.  My role was to cover the groom's preparations and capture the bridal party's arrival at the wedding venue.

For once my ageing Sat Nav behaved and we were on the same page when it came to the route to the given address, so no "do a U-turn" monotone mantras for me!  I arrived in good time and was greeted by a groom still in jogging bottoms.  

Inside, the best man, ushers and the groom's young son were all suited and booted...and so the preps began.  There is no time for awkwardness in these situations and despite it being well over 18 months since my last foray into the world of wedding photography, I was soon back into it, balancing precariously on a toilet seat to photograph the groom, over his shoulder, in the bathroom mirror and rearranging patio furniture outside to ensure clean lines and an interesting backdrop in the garden for the group shots.  

The 90-minute window flew by and I managed to snag one of the limited parking spaces outside the venue, bracing myself for heavy rain.  Thankfully I was able to discharge my duties before the heavens opened, the weather was abysmal and I felt for the couple.

As the principal photographer edits my photos to ensure that they are presented in the same style as her own shots, I don't have any I can share just yet.  It certainly wouldn't do to share them before the bride and groom have seen them.

However, couples are usually made aware that a selection of their photos might be used in the future for promotional purposes.  Having been bitten by the bug again, I re-visited some of my previous efforts with a view to updating my website and starting a separate wedding/events Instagram account.

Here are a selection of early efforts.  I have tried to apply a certain style to each set befitting my memories of the day.

 

The final batch were taken at my very first solo shoot in the summer prior to the pandemic.  This was a very relaxed affair - a stunning venue, natural light photography, not too many formal shots and the most welcoming wedding party who seemed to make it their mission to feed me.  It was a wonderful first experience.

Unfortunately, for the rest of the week, I have had my first cold for over 18 months and it was a beast!  A friend had reported having a cold and almost dismissing it as such before taking a lateral flow test and getting a positive result.  I had been taking daily LF tests which were coming out negative, but after feeling a little better, on the third day I developed a persistent cough and decided to book a PCR test.  Thankfully the test result was negative and I am much improved.  However, the accuracy of lateral flow tests is concerning.  Our son has a few friends who have in the last few months had Covid infections.  On each occasion, their lateral flow tests were negative, even at the peak of their symptoms.  Only the PCR tests proved positive.  Now, the UK government looks set to scrap PCR tests for travel in favour of lateral flow tests...

So, in the throws of a bad cold, I have pretty much kept myself to myself this week and only in the last couple of days, have I ventured out for a couple of solitary walks.  For the record, my really irritating, persistent cough all but disappeared after 24 hours.  This could have been pure coincidence, but I did indulge in not one but two hot toddies on Thursday night - hot water, juice of half a lemon, some honey to taste and a measure of brandy. (It was definitely a two hot toddy cold).  

As you may recall, I've been conducting my own experimental photography exhibition by placing photos I have taken over the last 18 months in and around the area - ideally close to the locations in the photos.  I do this sporadically, in batches and the results have been mixed.  Some have trickled in quite quickly....

....including a private message from the grand daughter of the owners of Enville Hall (pictured)...

...who discovered this Autumnal shot taken and placed somewhere on the estate.

Others remain insitu; overlooked (amazing when we live in an area of curtain twitchers) or collected, but not shared on social media channels.  I don't mind this too much - the recipient could well be an individual from a demographic not predisposed to embracing the world of online interaction.  As long as they like the photo and it brightens their day, that's good to know.

First thing on Friday morning, I headed through the garden gate and into the wood to capture the first of the early Autumn mists.

My favourite oak

Startled Wood Pigeon

Walker in the woods

On my return, I reached for a macro extension tube to capture some Autumn indicators in closer detail.

Morning dew

Tiny fungi

Abandoned, water-filled pigeon egg shell

Transitioning colours

Tangled up in blue - web covered lace cap

After spending much of the week feeling exhausted and dosed up on paracetamol, I decided my body needed to move.  My woodland escape was very leisurely, given that fresh air and photography were the priorities.  I reached for my long neglected nordic walking poles and headed to the hills - Kinver Edge to be precise.   I love walking, but they can often end up more of a stroll and the natural tendency is to adopt a more relaxed posture, whereas nordic walking provides a full body workout, because you have to move your arms into a handshake motion and then back and forth, keeping them straight, thereby giving the sticks purchase on the ground and working your upper body and increasing the heart rate.  I'm old enough not to give a hoot about funny looks and wisecracks.  Due to a couple of troublesome discs, my bothersome back has put paid to my running days, but I love to just put on a pair of shoes and exercise from anywhere without any pre-planning and so nordic walking's quite a good option for me.

Anyhoo, given that I had poles attached to my wrists, I was sans camera, but fear not, here's a photo from a couple of weeks ago, in sunnier times, of Kinver's resident long horns soaking up the last of the summer sun.

I haven't posted any outfit photos recently, but here's my latest acquisition - a vintage knit, purchased from a local charity shop just prior to my nordic walking adventure.  A true case of fashion informing life.  So something else I'm now clearly old enough for - a "fun" jumper.  Who'd have thought Gyles Brandreth would ever one of my style icons?  It's a slippery slope!

Last night's TV viewing was all about the final episode of BBC's The North Water and Colin Farrell's terrifyingly dark but Oscar-worthy performance.  Edge of the seat stuff!

Tomorrow, I am meeting up with a friend for a long overdue catch up.  It's madness considering we live less than five minutes apart and both simply have to open our garden gates to the woodland beyond if we want to go for a walk together.  Circumstances and work have kept us apart, but tomorrow, we will be wearing a groove in the path around the perimeter.  I predict it will be a two lap chat.

What are you up to? 

Wake Me Up When September Ends

It's officially Autumn.  Although there is a great deal to look forward to at this time of year, I always feel a bit melancholy.  It's easy for me to explain why.  I have three valid reasons:  dark nights, the smell of decay and the clear and present danger of encountering a spider with more muscle tone than Popeye.  September is also the month we usually spend shivering in the evening gloom, piling on layers and refusing the put the heating on because we have been convinced by someone or other of the imminent arrival of an Indian summer.

Still, it's not all bad.   I'm not going to do a Billy Joe Armstrong and sleep right through.  We have the anticipation of a spectacular Autumn display, real ale by the fireside and blackberry and apple crumble to provide a warming layer of fat for winter.  Kicking off the Autumn/Winter season aesthetic, I've created this composite image from an ICM (intentional camera movement) photo of some twisted trees and a separate photo of a rookery.  What do you think? 

Another bonus for us is that the growing season is nearing an end; good news when you've spent many many hours this week chopping bamboo.  We've harvested enough canes to build a house worthy of a visit from Kevin McCloud and the Grand Designs team.

This hastily taken mobile shot was taken over halfway through.  In my eagerness to destroy the bamboo, I forgot to get a decent representative shot of before.  Suffice to say it was dense, encroaching on the lower part of the garden at an alarming rate and at least 12 feet high in places.

And now....let there be light.  

The fence will need a pop of colour methinks, but it's lovely to now open our back door and see more of the beautiful shapely oak tree (left in above image) and less of the Panda's paradise.

I thought this week I would share with you a very charming garden in the Worcestershire town of Bewdley, a picturesque Georgian town on the banks of the River Severn - around 25 minutes from us.  Bewdley, like many other places worldwide, has hit the news courtesy of flooding.  Huge flood barriers have been erected in recent years, but flood water breached the temporary barriers at Beales Corner on the southside of the town in 2020 and 2021.  

The garden I'm referring to is a stunning riverside garden belonging to this cottage, aptly named "Dunfloodin."  Can you see the little bird flying towards the doorway?  Just inside the porch, are some beautiful ceramic hanging pots full of bird seed to cater for the local winged population.

Before I show you more, you're going to need a little background information, which necessitates a riverside walk from Bewdley to Arley.

Heading out of Bewdley in the direction of Arley, we pass a fabulous fish and chip shop, a characterful pub, a few cafes and numerous pretty riverside cottages.  Here are the flood defences in action in 2019.

The River Severn carves through the landscape, offers many scenic walks and holds great appeal to paddle boarders and canoeists.  Spend a day on the banks of the Severn and your soundtrack will be paddles swooshing through water, birdsong and the soothing, nostalgia-steeped whistles of passing steam trains.

The banks of the river offer up numerous spots for old school picnicking.  

 

On arrival in Arley, you can feed the ducks...

...and mooch around the church and arboretum

There used to be a ferry from Arley.  Originally the old river ferry, it was the most northerly of the Severn ferries in Worcestershire and the last in the county to operate on the River Severn. The earliest references to the ferry are in the Close Rolls of 1323 and, in 1331, when it was referred to as ‘the Ferry within the bounds of the Chase of Edmund de Mortimer, Earl of Wyre’. In 1602 there is a reference to ‘a passage called the Ferry boate’ in the possession of the Lyttletons, who were Lords of the Manor of Arley at that time.

The ferry ran across the river until 1964 when it was replaced by the current footbridge, leading up the single track hill road, past the pub to Arley Station. 

There we like to hop on the Severn Valley Railway for the return journey if we're feeling lazy (and luxuriate in a first class carriage if the train isn't busy and the guard turns a blind eye).

So, back to the Bewdley garden.  Dunnfloodin on Dog Lane in Bewdley, is the last resting place of the Arley Ferry, the prow now established as a garden water feature.

I love everything about this garden.  The owners obviously have artistic leanings and have maximised what limited space they have.  Every corner and crevice is put to good use.  There's a mirror window to give the illusion of space.

A sunny aspect to allow for copious amounts of colour.

The sign says "It's not a shed, it's a summerhouse."

Naturally there are tomatoes.  I don't think there's a garden in Britain that didn't have a bash at growing tomatoes during the summer of 2020.

Access is by virtue of stone and gravel pathways.

The owners were nowhere to be seen.  Whilst I think they are well accustomed to people taking photographs of their garden, I wouldn't have lingered so long had they been around.  I would have at least struck up a conversation and asked for their permission.

An alternative route from the centre of town to the carpark on the outskirts is through Queen Elizabeth II Jubilee Gardens; a small area of 8601 square metres just off the High Street (accessed through the Museum) within the conservation area.  

This sculpture serves as a reminder to dance like nobody's watching.  Actually I'm not sure I would impose that on anyone, but can appreciate the sentiment.

The wild flower area is divine...

...and an alleyway at the end passes yet more idyllic country cottage gardens packed full of David Austin roses

and, if conditions are favourable, real actual fairies.

Finally, the charity shop fairies were sprinkling their magic over me this week.  What does every wardrobe need?  An Indian made, sparkly, sequin-covered, beaded vintage statement evening jacket for the princely sum of £6.95 of course! I'm in love.

Not sure it's the best choice for a few days in Anglesey, but we may soon find out.  Have a wonderful week!