Sunday, February 21, 2016

Sunday morning



Snowdrops they are everywhere, along the road, in the fields, trailing along the river bank and of course in people's gardens.  Dainty, delicate but not wild flowers, or are they? It is people that have planted them along bridleways, and birds or insects that have scattered them.  Here as you look back at the old farm orchard you can see the straight line of daffodils planted.


I thought on this walk to discover what survives in the verge and hedgerow, think I have spotted ransom, and of course dog mercury's gentle little flower, whispering woodland a long time ago.


Further along on our walk and we come to the 'bunny bank', the bank has many holes and often a flash of white tail will tell of a guard rabbit.  Baby rabbits play on the ploughed field their colour blending well with the soil.  On this walk was a covey of what I think maybe pheasant babes, though from their sandy colouring from a long distance they could have been partridge.


Traces of water still lurk in the fields and we seem to be, this far North, on the cusp of the cold/warm weather fronts that sit across England. Does that mean rain I wonder?
In the following photo, just before the bridge and you can see Nelson's land in the background, here he lives in a caravan with many hens, some geese and half a dozen sheep.  Not sure he legitimately owns the land but there does seem to be some questioning by the pub's owner.



And there is also of course moles they cover the fields by the river with their mole hills, there must be quite a few of them.


Our internet has been playing up the last few days, but LS phoned BT up, and they seem to have fixed the problem by remote control, updating our router and going back to the source, clever though I find it a bit scary when someone in India can take over your computer.....


Madam, who has been over-hyped all night, resulting in a couple of hours sleep for me,...

2 comments:

  1. I love your photographs Thelma, especially the one of the golden ploughed fields. Yes, wherever we look Spring is springing isn;t it> I said to the farmer over breakfast this morning that as we are nearly into March surely we can't get any more wintry weather. Of course I got a diatribe about years when there had been a foot of snow in March! Very dull here - as you say we seem
    to be on the cusp - the south seem to have had the best of it this winter don't they? As for mole hills - like T S Eliot's Prufrock, who measured out his life in coffee spoons, I think the farmer measures his out in mole hills. As we are driving along he never misses seeing them. And a field full of them spells bad farming to him.

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  2. Morning Pat, the moles are on the rampage round here though they don't seem to make inroads into the ploughed fields, fresh mole hills every day. Just about to tackle the question of whether snowdrops are 'wild'

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