The hopeful Brown Bear comes to stay

Recently I read about a hopeful Brown Bear.

He was looking for a new home and the more I read the blog posting the more I was sure that Brown Bear belonged with us in my new sewing table area in the spare room.  So I bought him and the other day he took his place in Hazel Cottage.

He will now keep me company when I am doing crafty things and sit there and be hopeful. He already has his first social engagement at a Teddy Bears picnic at the end of July.

Thank you Hettie Brown for Brown Bear, I love him!

The glory of the English countryside

It's beautiful the Summer month of June
When all of God's own wildflowers are in bloom
And sun shines brightly most part of the day
And butterflies o'er lush green meadows play.

Francis Duggan, June

 Those wonderful wildflowers in the English countryside grace the hedgerows so beautifully at this time of year.  On a walk in Devon at the weekend, walking along the lane we saw the last of the late bluebells mixed with buttercups, ox-eye daisies, herb robert, lesser stitchwort, and other flowers we couldn't identify.

The sun was so bright it caused my photograph to glow!

Does anyone recognise this?  Sorry about the blurry photo!

Cow parsley and sweet cicely, we think we saw hogweed as well.

Foxgloves were everywhere we went and were still coming out.  I think everything is a little late this year.

 

The ransoms or wild garlic were everywhere along the route - especially in the shaded areas near the steam.

Looking back downhill along the lane.

 

“In June as many as a dozen species may burst their buds on a single day"

Aldo Leopold   

The butterflies and birds flew about our heads and I took a lot of photographs and we stood and gazed at the view. We saw at least three buzzards over the weekend and on the walk also saw an owl fly past.   On a June day when the sun is blazing and the hedgerows are alive with life, the English countryside is just the best place in the world.

"A bird in the boughs sang “June,”
And “June” hummed a bee
In a Bacchic glee
As he tumbled over and over
Drunk with the honey-dew."
  Clinton Scollard (1860–1932)