A certain kind of light

Driving through Dorset early evening

I don't know whether its artistic sensibility or something learned or just luck, but I've always been quite good at working out whether a photograph will work out or not.  Sometimes its being able to frame something so the general composition works but other times it is just sheer luck and taking chances and hoping it works.  The last time we were down in Devon for a few days I took some chances when the weather was actually good enough to go outside...

I was rather obsessed by the sky not having rain clouds in it!

I loved the light in the late afternoon

Now we are in late August and the sun shines in the late afternoon there is a certain kind of warm glow.  It is the kind of light that makes me want to take endless photographs and try to capture that fleeting moment in time.  Mr C has been managing to capture some wonderful photographs of the myriad spiders and moths at Hazel Cottage in the last few weeks.  All of them finding their way into the kitchen before being set free.

Red-belted clearwing moth, or apple clearwing

Brimstone Moth

Silver-ground carpet moth

In the vegetable garden, the garlic and shallots have been dug up, the beans and tomatoes seem to be doing something finally, and the carrots and beetroot are still growing.  We've eaten one of the cauliflowers and hopefully have two more to harvest. 

The great pickling season has already begun with some garlic being pickled and a jar of chinese pickled vegetables being made.  We are collecting blackberries at the moment and hope to make some bramble jam soon. For my birthday I was given some equipment to start my new project of soft cheese making.  I will report back when I make a start....

The missing dead tree

When we moved into Hazel Cottage one of the things we loved so much about the garden was the number of trees in neighbouring gardens; apple trees, pear trees, hawthorns, seedlings from our hazel tree, a very tall fir tree, and amongst it all, stark leafless dead tree.

Part of the thicket in winter with the dead tree

This little thicket provides a lovely home to the birds we love so much - robins, sparrows, magpies, crows, goldfinches, pigeons and doves, blackbirds, great and blue tits and the seasonal visitors that some and go.  We would often be in the house listening to the birds outside, wandering into the garden only to find large numbers of magpies and crows congregating in the dead tree.  There was a mass meeting once where we counted almost twenty corvids chattering and arguing and flapping about in the dead tree.  The sound was deafening!

Without warning, suddenly this week the dead tree has gone.  Even though all the rest of the trees are there, and the birds still make a racket around us, we felt inexplicably sad at its loss. 

To A Dead Tree by John Clare

Old tree thou art wither'd--I pass'd thee last year,
And the blackbird snug hid in thy branches did sing,
Thy shadow stretch'd dark o'er the grass sprouting near,
And thou wert as green as thy mates of the spring.
How alter'd since then! not a leaf hast thou got,
Thy honours brown round thee that clothed the tree;
The clown passeth by thee and heedeth thee not,
But thou'rt a warm source of reflection for me.

I think, while I view thee and rest on the stile,
Life's bloom is as frail as the leaves thou hast shed;
Like thee I may boast of my honours awhile,
But new springs may blossom, and mine may be fled:
Fond friends may bend o'er the rais'd turf where I'm laid,
And warm recollection the past may look o'er,
And say by my life, as I say by thy shade,
"Last spring he was living, but now he's no more."

Call the fire brigade!

Just a short blog entry today, but I just had to share a picture of this wonderful little van we saw on our way into work the other day.  Its a Morris fire brigade van and we were both rather impressed!

Finding the rainbow amongst the rain

It would be so easy to make this blog into a moan about the constant incessant rain we've had this summer.  I didn't know at first whether it is particularly awful or whether its just because we now grow vegetables and try to live seasonally that we notice every change.  I now know this summer is somewhat freakish, although it has been interesting trying to live closer to the soil, so to speak.

Some of the crops we grew easily last year, like beetroot and courgettes, have been somewhat of a washout and have suffered from a major influx of slugs and snails.  Seeds have germinated for other crops, but then they just don't grow particularly large as they need warmth and sunshine to produce at their best.  Our little apple tree which produced three apples in its first year has only produced one apple this year - it has been widely reported that apple and pear crops are significantly down on the average this year.  It all feels lacklustre and as if the vegetables were waiting for a summer that will never come.

Due to the awful weather we have spent a lot more time than usual in the house and sorting through boxes of things.  I've even put aside a cupboard for my sewing things.

Our study is now painted in french turquoise, resplendent with floor to ceiling bookshelves and waiting for us to find a lovely wing arm chair and small desk.

We have also fitted our new front door, with a beautiful one made by my brother and fitted by him and my brother in law.

When we venture into the garden in moments of rare sunshine or dryness, we watch sparrows dance across the lawn, dipping onto the long grass occasionally and making a racket.  It is so lovely to see them again in bigger numbers, I remember seeing them all the time when I was a child but numbers had dropped massively over the years.  In the garden at Hazel Cottage this year we often get four or five of them at a time, chirping and sitting on the fence.

Amongst all the rain, it really does make you appreciate when the sun shines or when you see a rainbow...

A rose by any other name would smell as sweet

I mentioned in my last post that we had seven different roses in our garden.  We inherited them all when we moved in - the previous owners had obviously loved them. I have to admit to having had a problematic attiude to roses until recently.  Most of the year they look like dry sticks and don't provide any greenery, and only look good for a few weeks in May and June.  I've always loved the roses themselves, but they seemed hard work with their aphids and deadheading and need for pruning.  I wasn't about to dig them up, but they seemed more work than anything else.

This year has been different though.  I've fed the roses early in spring, I've bought organic aphid spray  to keep them in check and I've deadheaded more often.  And this year they have rewarded me with the most wondrous smelling, beautiful blooms.  As an impatient gardener, I am learning a lesson here - some plants need a little more care, a bit more effort and planning in order to produce at their best.  I also seem to have fallen in love with roses a little.  So I hope you will forgive my indulgence and enjoy these photographs of all seven rose bushes in Hazel Cottage garden:

 

 

God gave us memory so that we might have roses in December.

James M. Barrie

Sweet spring, full of sweet days and roses, a box where sweets compacted lie.

George Herbert

They are not long, the days of wine and roses.

Ernest Dowson

Summer and the strange owl

It truly felt like summer this morning as I gazed out into our garden, wishing I didn't have to go to work.

I yearned to wander around deadheading roses and yanking out miles of the dreaded bindweed.  I've been really pleased with how the garden is coming on, in spite of the odd weather patterns this year.  This area was mostly barren last year - its a man made raised bed/rockery which was built rather badly and is mostly just brick rubble and poor soil in places  I've planted a couple of geraniums and thymes, and let the golden marjoram take over a little and it is starting to look lovely. 

Our fruit harvest is small, only two apples on the tree we planted last year.  Seeing as we had three apples last year, it should be a little better, although Mr C tells me this is the pattern everywhere, apples and pears have really suffered.  We have started to pick raspberries and strawberries though, although we will have to be far sharper with protecting the redcurrants from the birds next year.  We have only harvested 4 currants, although there were double that amount last week!

I thought I would share a picture of my random purchase that I made at the weekend at our local summer fete.  I'm rather taken with my strange little owl, though have no clue where it will live.  For now he lives on the dining room table next to the flowers....

 

A clock we found in a charity shop that will hopefully live in our study.  And some of the beautiful roses from one of seven rose bushes that bedeck the back garden.

For the love of old books...

This blog may give have given you the impression that we spend all of our time in the garden or kitchen. I do post often about our adventures with creating a cottage garden or growing vegetables and making our produce into home made cakes and preserves.  Another passion of both of ours is books.  We do own a large number of books, and Mr C is currently building a large floor to ceiling bookshelf in what will be our study, to cope with the number of books we have.  

As the weather is not particularly summery, my thoughts turned to some of the interesting books we've found recently.  One of the most beautiful was this one, 'The Young Lady's Book' edited by Mrs Henry Mackarness and dated 1876.

It begins 'How common amongst  our young ladies between school-days and the much-looked-forward-to possession, a "home of their own" is the exclamation "I have nothing to do!"'  The book then gives advice on "What to do and how to do it", from housekeeping, nursing the sick, and working for the poor to home studies and indoor and outdoor occupations.  There are chapters on things like gardening and illumination and wonderful plates to accompany them.

I shall end with a quote from the chapter on reading:

"The habit of reading is one of the most valuable means of securing amusement; we can read when little else could be done without trouble...every book read makes us better able to understand others."