Wednesday 3 September 2014

OF PAINTINGS, PONDS AND PLANKS


Let me start with nothing to do with the pond - phew!

At this time of year, late on a sunny afternoon the light in the top wood is a delight (light a delight? Mmm, need to be careful). Well, I am not going to use that awful word, 'nice'. There are millions of intonations one can use with that word, none of which have anything to do with its original meaning.



This is looking up into the top wood with backlit grass and old flower stems and heads.
One plant that really works well with this is the woundwort, its old flower spikes are beautiful. Grasses, campion and dock are also good, even the dreaded nettle.

There is a magical, peaceful quality to the place and yesterday was just such a time.

All the stress of painters and ponders dissipated for a short while, birds are beginning to sing again after moulting - it was a little patch of heaven.

A lazy buzzard floated out of the top of one of the mature ash trees and drifted off over the fields, gulls were working their way west to their roost, swallows and martins whirling after insects - heaven.




It was up here, earlier in the year, that Fiona Clucas did her preliminary work for her painting so here is today's photograph of the same spot with her painting.

You can see she has no need to worry - her work is so superior to my pic and she has reproduced the place faithfully.

One plant that is going great guns is the white cosmos that Sue gave us. The ones I tried to raise etc all went phut! but her seedlings have thrived - Oh! for green fingers.


Finally one has to mention pond stuff - the planks from the walkway have been either salvaged, reused somewhere or chucked on the bonfire.

New mower bridge over ditch to the left, bonfire in the making to the right.
The best planks are awaiting my brain to click in and think of a 'good idea'.

Finally the new stream is about to be dug - the trajectory (if that is the right word)(which I doubt)(but is a good word) marked out in red spray paint from the existing stream to the ditch under the hedge.

Meanwhile there is mowing - yuk - weeding - yuk, yuk - and dead heading - 3 yuks, the plums are all going to have to be picked and frozen (put in with last year's crop) so are the damsons. The pears have decided to fall off the tree on by one and very small and tough.

Good heavens! The two clocks (I wind them every Sunday) are chiming in unison. That almost never happens.

To relieve painter/pond stress R has gone for a walk in a wood with J, and I am sneaking off for some golf leaving all the garden jobs unstarted.

An awful thought is beginning to creep into out consciousness - after we have paid for painting and pond we may not have enough dose to escape for out autumn sunshine holiday.

We may need to go somewhere really cheap - like Syria or eastern Ukraine?

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