From South Pool to East Portlemouth

What glorious autumn sunshine we've been enjoying this month. Really warm during the day, yet with a chill in the air at night to remind us that summer is behind us now. So I loaded Ben into the car and we set off on an expedition. We wound our way through the little lanes, emerging at the top of the hill above South Pool. Like many of the villages around here it has a most impressive church with a very tall tower - far too large for today's congregations.

We parked alongside the creek and, taking note of the white ducks roosting on a bank in the middle of the (very shallow) stream I took care that Ben headed off in the opposite direction towards the stepping stones and down the path that leads along the bank.

The tide was low however, and the temptation to wallow was proving rather too great for my furry friend.

So, ignoring his protests I returned him to the newfmobile (aka my car) and we continued along the tidal road towards East Portlemouth.

Look at the colour of the sky!

Last time I blogged about this walk we came to see the bluebells. No bluebells today! Just one black dog!

Who knows the path down to the beach very well!

And took to the water like - well - like a newfie really!

BUT THEN - A RED LETTER DAY FOR BEN!!! WHAT EXCITEMENT!!! A NEW FRIEND!!!

WHO WAS B I G G E R THAN HIM!

That doesn't happen very often! Something to tell Amy when we get home. Luckily both dogs were gentle and friendly and happy to nuzzle one another in an agreeable way. I didn't find out the Dane's name, but he was quite an elderly chap who weighed a good stone more than Ben!

Then we turned back up the path and headed towards home ... only a few more pictures to look at ...

Looking back along the beach - not quite deserted, but nearly so....

Naturally Mr Impatient Ben got to the top of the path first.

Back to the newfmobile ..

Leaned over a gate at Rickham to take the photo above. It's beautiful now, but so bleak up here during the winter months when the wind is howling and the lane is a sea of mud. That's when I'm glad I live down in the village, tucked snugly away under the hill.

The end of the expedition - the lane down towards home, tea and Amy waiting for us.

Spring is here to stay!

Walking up to the woods yesterday I realised that spring has really arrived - no cold snap or arctic blast can put it back into its box now - it's well and truly here. Although there was a frost on Wednesday night, by 8.30 am it had disappeared from all but the deepest shade, and the sunshine was hot on my shoulders. Amy huffed and puffed along like a black furry steam train. She is not fond of the warmer months as a combination of thick black fur and a round body does not make for comfort when the days grow hotter. Her favourite place to snooze is in the old stone courtyard at the back of the house where the sun barely reaches even in the highest dog days of summer.

Today we walked down to Batson Creek. We haven't been this way for a while and I was struck by the sheets of acid yellow rape with its distinctive smell. I don't mind it, I think it looks like sunshine fallen to the ground on even the gloomiest days, though I know many people think it's too bright and alien in our mellow English landscape. Luckily the swans weren't around today and we spent a long time at the creek. I found some lovely broken pieces of old blue and white china half buried in the mud, while Ben and Amy found some less lovely smelly seaweed and unidentifiable slimy objects by rootling around where the trees overhang the water.

I shall try to paint the china pieces, I love the combination of blue and white, so classic and timeless. I've just finished painting two Bernese Mountain Dog puppies for friends in the village, so the china will be a different challenge, quite different to my usual subjects.

I've been re-reading Vita Sackville-West's epic poems, "The Land" and "The Garden". Although I find some parts very heavy, others really sing to me as she is so in tune with nature and the seasons. As our gardens and hedgerows burst into life, I particularly enjoy these few lines ....

" .... But for this summer's quick delight
Sow marigold, and sow the bright
Frail poppy that with noonday dies
But wakens to a fresh surprise;
Along the pathway stones be set
Sweet Alysson and mignonette,
That when the full midsummer's come
On scented clumps the bees may hum,
Golden Italians, and the wild
Black bumble-bee alike beguiled:
And lovers who have never kissed
May sow the cloudy Love-in-Mist."

Great planting plan, beautiful evocative words .... spring is really here now!