Change

Tonight I stepped out of the door into a dark night of wind & rain. It was quiet - not a soul moving about. Doors & windows shut, curtains drawn with light shining through cracks & thin fabrics. On the road were slugs & snails & a few frogs/toads and I thought to myself "I've stepped into another world". Tove Jansson captured that feeling of different-ness in some of her books - especially the "Moominland Midwinter". The warm cosy world of family & friends, are contrasted with coldness of the weather & the emptiness left by the sleeping family. Of course comfortable order is returned, just as it is when I walked back through the front door into light & the wagging tail of the small dog.

Familiarity can equal reassurance. Matters relating to our "great church project" have been very very fraught over the last few weeks. I fully expect the turmoil to spill over into the next few months. What was comfortably familiar is all set to change & we are meeting resistance. The church was once linked to the Cistercian Abbey Dore (Holy Trinity & St Mary) which I gather from various articles has had a chequered history. From it's creation in 1147 to it's dissolution by Henry VIIIth in 1537, it's decline to a roofless ruins (just like our church) in 1630 to it's restoration & reconsecration in 1634 & then various repairs & restorations - then threatened again with closure in 1993 but saved again and is now a much used & loved Grade 1 listed parish church. The history of this mother church make the history of our ruins seems positively tranquil. According the list of services St Mary (the church patron) is celebrated on 12th September - I wonder if that will be a date for us to remember?

Picture - wikipedia

Occassionally an everyday object shows itself as something other than everyday. I had just such an occurence with a white wild rose. It suddenly became The Tudor Rose & I finally understood the stylized heraldic rose associated with this royal house. Previously I had thought "what an odd depiction of a rose" the Tudor rose was, having in my mind the multi-petalled garden rose. It seems a small thing but this new knowledge has changed my view of the rose - taken it from being an exotic import to an integral part of the English country and locked it firmly into English history. So now when I look at wild roses in the hedgerows I wonder if this is the type of rose a woman in the C15th would stop & admire. Perhaps she would pick a few blooms & seperate the heart-shaped petals & dry them to scatter amongst her clothes or collect a small posy for her beloved. A romantic rose indeed and one of peace representing the joining of two warring Houses.

Recent activities on the church restoration project has also plunged me back in time, it's not everyday that I get an epistal or use the word "terrier" in it's non-canine way. The Epistal was an instruction from the Bishop regarding the tombstones. A terrier is "a book or roll in which the lands of private persons are described by their site, boundaries, umber of acres etc" (The "King's English Dictionary"- this edition has a picture of H.M. King George V as it's front plate). I suppose that makes those ho work in modern day Land Registery "a pack of terriers" - how apt is the phrase "let sleeping dogs lie"! Land disputes are one of those areas that go from petty to deadly in one stride.

I've had good views of three fast moving things this week:

* a Red Admiral butterfly obligingly sat still with open wings - what gorgeous colours
* a green woodpecker flew straight in front of the car - startling green, yellow & red.
* a bright green cricket found it's way into the car - it's the bright-greenest creature I have ever seen.

Finally - this week we managed to upload our own photos. Until e do thanks Wikipedia for the images.

Home Produced Food & the Pumpkin Patch

Today I feel like awarding myself (and Mr PoppyM) a 1st level badge in Self- Sufficiency. All our food today was NOT home produced but a majority of it was - onwards & upwards. Today there was: home-made bread, eggs from our own hens, home-grown potatoes, Swiss chard, baby turnips, mint & rosemary.

The Swiss-chard has been a revelation - I struggle to find leafy greens I like eating & I like chard - hurrah. An easy to grow crop,with a very long season & very versatile, plus, if grown from seed - very very cheap. Shame I just cant get to like turnips - on the plus side Mr PoppyM does & so do the hens (the main reason I am growing them).

I still get a real thrill from watching seeds turn into plants. At the present I am extremely proud of the parsnip & cabbage youngsters that have emerged from seeds. Today there is great excitement at the arrival of my new radish & spring onion seeds (plus some climbing nasturtiums) from Moles Seeds - I can barely wait to get them planted. The weather has obliged this small wish by producing rain - it is gently falling as I write.

A number of years ago, when I travelled to work by bus, I passed a Pumpkin Patch. In the late summer orange fruits sat proudly amongst large chaotic leaves. As the days shortened, some of the leaves were removed to expose the pumpkins to the sun. By the time of harvest, large fruits sat boldly in a clear patch of soil soaking up the last rays of sun. It created a lasting image & now to me this typifies Autumn - perhaps my favourite season of the year. Well this year I have one of my own - it has cucumbers, courgettes, marrows & 5 squashes that could be either mini pumpkin, butternut squash or a mixture - I forgot to label them! The early squashes already have magnificent leaves & small fruits that I anticipate picking from next week. Another one of life's wishes fulfilled!
.

Pumpkin Patch photo from: Flickr- the fiends photostream.

.

Geese & parenthhod

Where I currently live there is just one domesticated goose who wanders about "free-range". Last year, through a series of misfortunes this male goose lost his companions & there was doubt how long he would survive. But he is very robust, this combined with lots of feeding through the long harsh winter has seen him through. In the spring some Canada geese arrived to breed on the very large pond - last year two set of goslings were successfully raised. The domesticated goose made a determined wooing of one of the females but lost out to one of the Canada Geese. Now an extraordinary thing has taken place. Instead of wandering off to look for an available female he has joined up with the breeding pair & helped raise the brood of 8 goslings. All three adults move about as a unit watching over the youngster, often with the big white goose sat next to the goslings. All three adults are fiercely protective and not surprisingly perhaps all 8 youngster are now large birds just starting to showing adult plumage.

Ver sadly - since the post was written George the goose has been killed in a RTA.

.

goslings: Hakoar flickr

June at the church site

On my almost daily water-collecting trips at a gravelly shallow on the Froome, I have seen damselflies. Some as delicate as needles others relatively substantial, in small & large numbers. They are also found on the now magnificently large butterbur leaves in the church yard. What has struck me most strongly is the vivid metallic-ness of their bodies. Colours & textures not seen in mammals, emphasising their difference & alieness to us warm-bloods. To my mind the organism that comes closest in these qualities is the buttercup (excluding of course other insects). A field of buttercups seen close-up or at small remove reflect sunlight off their petals as a hard, shiny gold. A regular peacock visitor is currently sporting breeding plumage that reflects the light & has a "sheen" but it lacks the metal-ness of the damselflies - the feathers looks warm not cold, soft not hard - though the klaxon screech of the male does certainly have a metallic edge to it!

.

The church site is beautiful at the present - the hawthorns are in full blossom, petals drift down like a summer snow. On a sunny day, walking past the butterbur sends up a cloud of damselflies & in the warm afternoon air, mayflies bob up & down - destined to eventually rain on the ground at the end of their brief lives.

.

Haiku - a Sunny June day

Sunshine, big green leaves,

iridescent wings alight,

moments of joy,

.

I'm currently dipping into the excellent "Notes from Walnut Tree Farm" by Roger Deakin & was delighted to find that he has an explanation of why familiar British flora & fauna often trigger a comparison with an exotic counterpart. His entry for 23rd April reads "..as I looked up at the hawthorn all covered in ivy that grows on the common just outside the house, I thought of a date palm and of how we often project the identities of exotic plants or animals on our own native species as a way of expressing their newness & magic." I like that explanation.

.

It's still peak vegetable planting season at the church site & a rabbit/badger-proof fence it in the process of being built around the plot. I'm beginning to feel very earthed & routed to the site - perhaps this is what the Benedictines mean by their vow of Stability (to remain in the same monastery). An odd feeling for someone who has moved a lot - perhaps the move to the church site will be my last major move - what an odd thought.

.

Flickr stas1963 (butterbur) : dragonflysoc.org.uk for Beautiful Damoiselle.

Herefordshire & Australia

A piece of writing has been rattling about in my head for a few days now. It's May, the heating is on, it cold, windy & raining outside & hot custard featured as part of the evening meal. And yet, at the forefront of my mind are eucalyptus trees & parrots!
.

My mind insists on creating parallels between Australia & Herefordshire. It may be because recently I have noticed a small number of magnificent gum trees growing in my area - tall, slender trees with pale trunks & delicate leaves making a distinctive open, grey-green canopy. There are several species of eucalptys sufficiently hardy to thrive in the UK - the only one I recall seeing for sale in garden centres is the Cider Gum (Eucalyptus gunnii). I am not sure what variety the elegant ones are that I see as we drive about our business. I have been trying to decide whether one would grow well at our church site, whether it would look right & whether it was really appropriate - perhaps a good companion to a unidentified redwood- that creaks & groans in the wind and looks unbalanced missing it's partner, long since dead.
.
As is often the way when themes occur, I opened at random the book I am currently reading (Wildwood) to a chapter entitled "Cockatoos". In it the author describes being awaken by screeching cockatoos "as they barrelled through the gum trees" and later he describes the ghost gum as having the "fluidity of a dancer" - all very exotic. Then quite surprisingly he says "it reminded me of the ash tree at home in Suffolk: smooth and pale skinned, with the graceful sinews of a dancer in the wind". So I am not alone in travelling so far, to a place with an alien flora & fauna, and yet finding an unexpected link with a familiar friend - an ash. At the entrance to our ruined church stands a magnificent ash & within the church yard itself we have preserved a 30 foot ash; through some expert crown reduction. Although we don't have cockatoos & galahs calling us to wakefulness, there are flashy raucous jays, yammering woodpeckers &, quarrelsome jackdaws nesting in the ruined church tower. Just once I have been to Australia & I find it odd that like the author of the book - the magnificent Roger Deakin (Wildwood A journey Through Trees) - I seem to have formed an emotional link between the two countries. To me the call of the jay always makes the word "parrot" appear before the word "jay" & similarly with a yammering woodpecker, the word "kookaburra" forms first.

.
Perhaps the link is to do with movement, freedom, adventure & surprise - our church site certainly provides all those. Or perhaps it is to do with still feeling a newcomer to this lush, tree-filled county of Herefordshire - my birthplace is a dry part of the UK that according to some definitions could be classified as a desert - in fact rather like parts of Australia!
.

Ghost Gum picture Flickr aussi-gals' photostream.
.

.

May Bank Holiday.

Sometimes it feels good to be busy, with a long list waiting to be done. Other times it is not so good - when your natural rhythm at that point in time says "nice & steady", "take time to sit & watch". Before I met-up with Mr PoppyM it was easier to follow my natural rhythm. Now of course there are two natural rhythms to get into synchronicity - sometimes this is easier to achieve than others.

The April rain has finally arrived so it's time for a "breather". The ground has been rotavated & the potatoes, parsnips & first batch of chard are planted. The mini-greenhouses are filling well with brassicas, lettuces, some annuals and, the summer bulbs are planted & shooting. There are still packets & packets of seeds to plant, gates to install, fences to build, but tomorrow will be a rest day, one for planning & dreaming.

I've just started to read "Wildwood" by Richard Deakin - what a brilliant nature writer. In it he describes the joyful & restorative nature of nights spent in his shepherd's hut or railway sleeper, both positioned in fields away from his house. They resonate deeply with the experiences I had when I lived for a while on a small boat. The closeness to nature, candles illuminating the darkness, the leaving-behind of the clutter of a house, happy days that I think about most days.

The next big phase of our church restoration project involves the building of a workshop-cum-over-night accommodation. I am so looking forward to spending at least a few nights there listening to the owls & night sounds & waking-up to birdsong and the sound of the wind in the trees. One of the many advantages of owning a piece of land is being able to grow your own woodland. It's next to impossible to get any form of permission to live in a wood - the only way around the planning restrictions I have found is to grow the wood around your home & that is essentially what we are doing.

It's May Day - time for the Maypole Dance. Photo from Jane Williams photostream Flickr

Time for sleep - time to visualize my sleepy parsnips seeds waking & putting forth shoots, time to remind the potatoes & chard that frosts are still possible for another fortnight. I fully expect to have the fire going tomorrow morning - a real British May Bank Holiday weekend.

.