After glorious weather for most of the week, now that the weekend has come the skies are overcast and we have had a little rain. Sods Law in full effect. By this evening I was feeling a little stir crazy and when it stopped raining I decided to get out for a short stroll up to Pointer Wood and Clark’s Lot. I think what led my steps in this particular direction was an intention to return to a Rowan that I photographed a few weeks ago when it was just coming into flower. Now the flowers are beginning to fade.
We have two Rowans in our garden – perhaps because they were traditionally planted near houses to ward off evil spirits. Our’s seem to have worked so far. Why I couldn’t just photograph one of them is a mystery to me.
Entwined around the Rowan, honeysuckle is almost in flower:
The Rowan stands in an area in the wood which has been mostly cleared of trees. Beside it is the gnarled decapitated trunk of a silver birch. I think that it’s true to say that Silver Birch are relatively short-lived trees. I tend to think of them as slender trees with papery white bark. But this is a sturdy stump, cracked and fissured, almost black, with only a few scales of silver remaining by which to identify it.
A hollow near the top of the trunk, curtained with cobwebs, is lined with the moss, feathers and grass of an abandoned nest.
The trunk hosts ivy and bracket fungus:
I’m sure that this tree would have a great deal to tell us if we only knew how to listen. If I were as clever as Cynthia at Words From the Northwest Woods I would invent a character and a story to accompany these pictures and observations.
Returning to the meadow I was struck by the profusion and variety of the flowers, including many more Early Purple Orchids, and these Bird’s-foot-trefoil, which I shall have to return to capture in better light:
This Hawthorn is taller then most. In the low light the abundant blossom seemed to glow:
I didn’t realise that I’d caught two will-o’-the-wisps in my picture until I got home, and since they passed the Rowan tree in the garden unharmed in the camera I assume that they are benign.
A cynic might say that I had raindrops on my lens, but then – we aren’t cynical are we?