Picture This

This week has been another hectic one; the kind of week that I'm guessing John Lennon had in mind when he said: "Life is what happens when you're busy making plans."  Therefore, in similar style to the last 7 days (and my state of mind) this will be a somewhat disjointed but busy blog post, summarising disparate moments and memories. 

WILDLIFE

We have frogspawn!  Almost a year after creating our pond, we were both ridiculously excited to see that our humble little stretch of water has now truly acquired wildlife status.  I know it's primary school stuff, but I'm going to photograph the three clumps (now four) of frogspawn daily, to chart its progress.  Did you know that these little miracles are also able exert some control over their own rate of development?  Apparently, if conditions aren't favourable, tadpoles can remain in the water in arrested development for up to a year.

Here's the first batch of photos, taken on day 3, 4 and 5 (there was no discernible difference between day 1 and 3).

Day 3

Day 4 (a new clump appeared overnight, bottom left and slightly smaller)

Day 5

SPRING FLOWERS

Crocuses in the garden.

Daffodils on the Enville Estate.

GIFT OF THE GAB

Thursday marked St Patrick's Day and given that it was nearly the weekend, we embraced the occasion, listening to the Pogues and drinking Guinness - once the sun was over the yardarm.   I dug out some old photos taken on our 90s road trip around Ireland.  Amongst the under-exposed, poorly composed photos, I found this one.  

You'll have to take my word for it, but these are Gareth's legs.  Before you jump to conclusions, no he hadn't imbibed Irish moonshine or poitin (anglicised as porteen or portheen).  He was in fact kissing the Blarney Stone.  We joined millions of pilgrims climbing the steps of Blarney Castle to kiss the Blarney Stone (someone holds your legs to ensure you don't fall to your death through the gap) and have bestowed upon us the "gift of the gab" or eloquence.  Coincidentally Gareth had also found some old Irish currency and a Guinness pin badge on the same day whilst searching for a box to pack an order.

TWO CLAIRES, COFFEE AND CAKE

A cheeky Friday afternoon diversion with my Mom at Enville's small, but perfectly formed coffee shop, Archie's Attic.  A couple of years ago, I photographed the coffee shop's bunting, blowing in the breeze.  Claire, the business owner, was thrilled with the photo and left a lovely comment.  On Friday I finally got round to visiting Archie's Attic, purchasing Rooibos Tea for me and carrot cake and superfruit tea for Mom.  I was greeted warmly by the staff inside and immediately asked "Are you Winter Peach?" by a smiley lady who introduced herself as Claire.  Fame at last!  

LA LUNA

The moon has played its part beautifully this week.  Earlier in the week, we seized a couple of hours and took a walk down to "the cut" (Black Country speak for canal).  After a few experimental shots (I do love to view the world through water)... 

Reflected crow in flight (image flipped)

...we headed back via a narrow footpath flanked by fields.  In one of the fields is a beautiful pylon.  Yes, you read that correctly.  Pylons (along with wind turbines) are amongst the few bits of manmade infrastructure that I find very pleasing to the eye.

I loved the juxtaposition of Earth's natural satellite seemingly triangulated within this imposing metal structure.  

Last night's moon - in its Waxing Gibbous phase (92.85% illuminated) was a stunner with its orange glow which is apparent when it is hanging low in the sky and viewed through much more of the Earth's atmosphere.

THE STARS

What is the moon without stars?  Here I have a couple of stars of the magnolia world.  First up (on a morning visit to Ashwood to discuss work experience for the sprog), this impressive Magnolia Stellata with its fragrant, star-like blooms.  For £220.00 I think I would want shooting stars!

Also, this stunning specimen, spotted on the return leg of an afternoon walk along the River Severn.

FADED GRANDEUR, RIVERSIDE AND A HERITAGE RAILWAY

Boarded up windows and peeling paintwork in Bewdley.

More dishevelled beauty; wonderful light play at a quirky and crumbly old workshop (the very best kind) on the banks of the River Severn.  We have walked past this place on countless occasions but on this day, the doors were thrown open, affording us a glimpse inside.  Just out of shot to the left, was a wall mounted cabinet containing at least half a dozen ceramic Lurpak Butter toast racks.  The occupant must need lots of tea and buttered toast to go about his business.

The floods have wreaked havoc along the River Severn, as evidenced by this barbed wire fence, now concealed by a coat of debris swept along by the current. 

Dowles Bridge, built for the Tenbury and Bewdley line in 1864 and dismantled 101 years later.

Will it one day be resurrected I wonder?

A train departing Bewdley Station on the Severn Valley Railway!

TO READ

Thanks to Polyester Princess for recommending The Moonflower Vine.  Jenny Packham's Memoir, How to Make a Dress, has been on my list for a while.  I'm a big fan of her brother, Chris, and can't wait to dive into Jenny's world for a true insight into the fashion industry.

SECOND HAND FINDS

Just when I thought the week would be fruitless in terms of bargain buys, I spotted this Devon Pottery vase for less than £3.00 in a very brief dash-and-grab style charity shop visit.  

Tonight, a date with Villanelle (Killing Eve) and maybe I'll crack open a red from last week's ill gotten gains!

See you soon! 

Storms

Storm's assembled group of raiders

Rush in off writhing seas,

Archive

Thundering footsteps gathering pace,

As they noisily take to the hills,

Hitting their stride on a landmass spine,

Howling their power where beacons once stood,

Archive

Echoes of their war cries

Tracing his charge through the valley.

They jeer and pull at trees, securing branches in a hostile grip,

Urging, persuading, forcing them to join

Their chaotic brand of merriment.

Archive

Some go willingly, others sit tight,

Battered and bruised,

Weakened from the fight.

Storm revels in his percussive fury,

An invisible Olympian, gathering masonry

And hurling it to the farthest reaches of the land,

Conducting clouds to burst 

In a crashing crescendo of rain;

The Severn Valley, February 2022

Filling, spilling and bursting rivers...

Whirlpool forming in the River Severn yesterday

River Severn, Arley - banks broken

...vanquishing land.

Bridgnorth yesterday

Storm circles and sweeps, playing cruel tricks,

Going over old ground,

Riverside bench consumed by flood water, Bridgnorth

Repeating the same tried and tested tortures

On already broken, reluctant playmates.

Arley, River Severn - small road bridge underwater

Flooded meadow on the banks of the River Severn, Arley

Tree debris caught by bridge, Bridgnorth

Submission weakens Storm's will

Until he stills - dispassionate, disinterested,

Archive

Retreating back to the waves in a sun flare,

Bridgnorth and the angry River Severn, yesterday

His mirrored canvas laid bare.

The storm is over, but flood water continues to rise

I have been laid low this week by storms and suspected Norovirus, with just bland food and my note pad to keep me occupied.  Thankfully both subsided within days of each other, allowing two trips outside to (safely) capture the unprecedented flood waters along the River Severn, resulting from the recent triple storm assault.  "Unprecedented" in this context, is starting to lose its meaning sadly.  

I thought I would give Storm a male identity for a change (and Franklin was the last to pass through).  Other news may have played a part in this decision.  

Hope you're all safe and well.  Do send me your news!