So…as you may have gathered, I haven’t really been ‘beating the bounds’ much of late. Partly that’s due to other distractions – work and the European Cup mostly. But partly it’s also due to a post-spring lethargy. Hill Wanderer sums up my feelings about summer in this post, but some of the highlights include paths over grown with nettles and brambles; midges, ticks, wasps, horse flies and anything else that bites; flowers that have finished and wilted. Ransoms particularly – so early to appear and so emblematic of the coming spring to me – droop and decay with astonishing rapidity once they have flowered. Bottoms Wood looks like it has been flooded and drained leaving the ransoms flattened and yellow. Other disappointments are harder to pin down – everything is lush and attractive but somehow the vibrancy and urgency of spring is lost. The lethargy feels to me like a general condition of the season, an external and general malaise and not just personal laziness.
The antidote of course is simple and involves getting of my fat arse and actually going for a walk. (Yet in these thoughts myself almost despising, Haply I went for a saunter)
After a couple of days of gales and torrential rain, today was beautiful. I was late getting out and the light was low.
Bindweed is flowering now. It’s a gardener’s nightmare – a vigorous climber that strangles other plants, the long strings of bone white roots snap easily and each piece left in the ground sprouts to form new plants. They are pretty though.
Thistles are common, prickly and easily over-looked. But I think that I can see more equiangular spirals here, so I’m happy.
I walked down to the Cove and across the Lots. There was barely a cloud in the sky and little wind. it was very peaceful. A Kestrel flew overhead. A Heron fished in a channel. Six Oystercatchers burbled past. I tried to get close to the Heron, but as usual failed miserably.
I’ve posted photos like these next ones many times before. I probably will again, but I never tire of this view, so I hope that you will indulge me.
A second Heron was now fishing not far from where the first had settled on the far side of the channel.
As I left the Lots I could hear Magpies chattering form several different directions. In pairs and threes birds crossed and re-crossed from tree to tree. I’m nor sure whether what was going on was essentially sociable or some kind (phoney) turf war, but I can’t recall hearing so may Magpies singing together before.