While we were away, the wind blew and blew, it rained and rained again, the garden became more and more bedraggled and the only thing that grew in the polytunnel were the weeds. Meteorologically, spring may have officially sprung on 1 March, or alternatively, astronomically on 20 March, but we are still enduring the equinox … More Beauty in the eye of the beholder
Not a great deal happens on the croft during the winter months, just a meander around the estate to check the fences and the giant hedge, cast an eye over the desolate vegetable and cottage garden and scan the beach for driftwood. I also look in the polytunnel on a regular basis to ensure that … More Winter chores with a little help from my friends
As January draws to a close we’re still wrapped in a cocoon of grey spun from wet silvery threads of salty cloud whipped up from a plumbean sea by the breath of Zephyrus. The rain slowly dissolves the coating of salt from the windows to reveal a monochrome landscape highlighted only by a pale yellow … More January means January?
January, a time for new beginnings and transition, derives its name Ianuarius from the Latin word for door (ianua) and not necessarily from the Roman god Janus. I also like the alternative Saxon name of Wulf-monath, which conjures a much more northern vision of the cold, hard, first month of the year. Here on the … More Surving the wulf-monath and the return of Pollyanna and the muse
The skylarks have returned and at every glimmer of sunshine ascend in a paroxysm of delight. There are noisy gatherings of Oystercatchers speed dating in the field, and the lapwings are practising sky dancing aerobatics to advertise their prowess as a sign of their parental fitness. To earthbound mortals the song of the lark is … More Hark, hark the Lark