Colours again, but mostly green the soft palette of late summer, as everything ripens. This is to record the hops in the hedgerow, on one of my favourite walks. As we park in the little layby and I get out a feeling of serene detachment comes over me. Why I do not know, this little river is just so peaceful in its small wilderness. The visit the other day was one of those chance drives into the countryside, to buy plums and greengages from the farm shop, passing by the now empty old pub, rather sad as it awaits its next reincarnation, that lies by the side of the A12 or old Roman road a victim of our more upmarket pubs/restaurants further along the road.
The hops humulus lupus are I think these below, though the hop flowers are very small but the leaf looks similar, Grigson says of it, the Hop twined and twirled in English hedgerows and thickets long before it became one of the ingredients of English beer. Hops apparently had been cultivated abroad, so it it also has a Saxon name hymele or humela.
Today is my daughter's birthday, fair enough but what was that message about buying a caravan left on F/B. Panicking, I phoned to wish her happy returns and why are they buying a caravan, deep forebodings that they have sold their house and not found another, reassured slightly, the new house needs building works for a couple of months, so they are off on another adventure, do so hope the builder finishes before winter sets in.