Come On And Celebrate!

Our friend had a birthday, a round birthday and being young at heart (and fit), invited a convivial group of people for a gentle hike around Loch Trool . Last time we visited the area was to celebrate his wife’s round birthday, also in October. As we neared the park a light rain began to fall, having driven down in sunshine that seemed just a little unreasonable. But the grey, gun-metal skies were brightened by the fattest, most colourful rainbow I have ever seen.

Gathering in the car park the sun reappeared as we set off in high spirits. October has been dry so the going was good. Birch leaves golden in the afternoon sun, berried bushes shone like jewels. Blackberries asking to be eaten, fat and heavy on the twisted canes. Gradually the groups dispersed as those who like to get round as quickly as the could rushed ahead. For the rest we strolled, taking in the scenery, conversing, stooping to look at bright orange fungi, lush green mosses, stands of pine and mighty oaks. Battles were fought here, (Outlander probably filmed here), countless feet have passed this way. And you really do have to pause to drink in the scenery as the loch stretches in front.

Not a taxing walk, (“my mum could do it” quips my friend), yes, until you get to that last hill before the car park; when the promise of food is so near and yet that hill is so steep – even if it is tarmac by this time! 🙂 “What took you so long?” queries my walking companion’s husband. We look stunned, when did he pass us? Last seen entering the bushes – yes, they are all of that age… So while we had walked and waited and worried, he had passed us miles back. “Men” we both mutter under our breath. Every one back, boots changed and off to the House O Hill  for a birthday feast. What a feast –  Happy Birthday Ian!

How do you like to celebrate significant birthdays?

 

 

On A Clear Day…

You’ll find me in the garden!

October seems to be a good month in the garden. Last year we had a perfect ‘Indian Summer‘ before November stormed in with wind and rain continuing well into 2016! Taking as much advantage as I can of this sublime gift, every opportunity I can, you will find me in the garden. Sunrise is after seven now, slowly stealing up behind the hills, as the sky brightens in palest pink and mauve. Disregarding the old adage “red sky in the morning….” I plan my day in the garden beneath the azure sky.

Frost has not yet visited, sweet peas still blossom, pinks mark the garden border, while the roses burst into  flower again. A few late visitors seek refuge in their petals, drinking down the last offerings of nectar. Late bees and hoverflies, the occasional red admiral or small tortoiseshell butterfly. No more dragons in the garden; such a brief adventure, then they are gone.

Sunset is swift and bright, golden and grey, sleeping warriors bask in the last rays. From the depth of the gloaming moths flit among the ivy flowers. Robin pipes his twilight tune and bids goodnight. The quite wind shakes the bronzed leaves from the bough, hedgehog rustles the dry and yellow grass. And the silver moon illuminates the darkened sky, bright stars, the lighthouse beam, ships lights upon the water. Earth never sleeps, someone, somewhere is awake, observing this unquiet world, where minuscule or magnificent, malevolent or mighty acts occur…

Thank you for stopping by today, the sun is out, the dew is drying. Time to tackle a tangle of lilies again!

Dragon Day

Solitary dragonfly sails across the garden

briefly pausing, scans his territory;

while the old, weathered table serves up 

a glimmer of dragons

waiting to fly.

~

(In recent days a lone, large dragonfly has droned across the garden completely alone. Yesterdays warm, still afternoon served up six smaller dragons resting on the garden furniture. Quietly posing for photos before climbing on my hand for close scrutiny!)

Rediscover child-like wonder in  a garden!

October Postcard…

It seems everything falls softly beneath an October sky. Dawn steals around the curtains as sunrise paints the clouds in pink and orange tones. Coppered, golden leaves drift from the gnarled and knotted beech trees, floating across the garden to lie in soft, inviting mounds.

Berries swell on dew-heavy bushes, warmed by late October sun. Butterflies with faded, tattered wings alight momentarily upon the sun-kissed fruit, then skim across the garden on a sudden breeze. Autumn is in the air, paints the garden in richest pallette…

Rose hips gathered, sweet amber cordial to stave off the winter chill. Berries left unharvested, wild things may have their fill before winter ravages the garden and the lean months blow in…

Unexpected guests arrive, basking in bright sunshine, half unfurled in the sun. Unabashed at meeting Oscar but maybe they are well acquainted passing the time, half-hidden in the long grass, beneath the shady hawthorn.

Past the Equinox and night gradually overtakes the day; sunsets fall more quickly now, hurrying beyond the horizon to brighten spring days in another hemisphere. Dew falls readily on the skylight windows blurring the last rays of sunset as stars begin to twinkle in the moonless sky. Air scented with pinewood fires from cottage chimneys, late curlews call splits the tranquil air. From the hedgerows, low rustling, shuffling sounds as the night creatures leave their leafy beds summoned by silent darkness. Songbirds roost in ivy apparelled hawthorn, solitary bat leaves the roof ridge circles quickly then returns to the shelter of home. Autumn falls softly in the garden…

Thanks for stopping by today – enjoy the changing seasons wherever you are.

 

Wee Lochan

Breaking water

the old fish leaps; momentarily

glimpses another world,

falling back to silt and shadow;

silent reflection

~

One Fine Day…

Let Evening Come

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“…Let it come, as it will, and don’t   

be afraid. God does not leave us   

comfortless, so let evening come.”

Jane Kenyon

Collected Poems, 2005

~

A Labour Of Love

‘Gardens are a form of autobiography’.

 Gardening for a Lifetime

Sydney Eddison –

If you have followed this blog for any length of time you will realise, I love walled gardens. If the family visit Culzean without me, they quite happily miss out the walled garden. Yes, I’m that predictable!

Several years ago we saw an advert for a walled garden, two acres, the gardener’s cottage built into the wall. We both allowed ourselves to get a little excited about it but life was busy and we didn’t make time to look. Several weeks later a friend and fellow ‘allotmenteer’ told me they had bought a walled garden and cottage. Smiling I told her I knew which one! Situated in the Clyde valley, traditionally the growing centre of Scotland, we listened enthusiastically (and enviously) to their dreams and plans.

Those of you who garden know just how much there is to do in a garden and seemingly how little can be achieved in a day. I ran around quickly trying to take it all in and being overwhelmed by the task in hand. As Sydney Eddison says “A garden is an autobiography.”  I was there to talk about Herbs (Yah, go me!) to the Smallholders group, so not feeling very relaxed, but so much took me back to my childhood and our own walled garden. Maybe that explains why I love old doors and brick walls. Standing in the sunny, sheltered garden, enjoying the sights and sounds, peeking inside the poly-tunnel filled with tomatoes and sweet corn, tasting homemade cider, going home with a handful of Spencer sweet peas… I’m happy our friends took on this garden, it will be their autobiography.

But it’s stopped raining and I have a half acre to tidy up! Have a good day!

 

 

What A Difference A Day Makes

Twenty four little hours…

Scenery here can change minute by minute and visibility from a few metres to a few miles in a very short space of time.  A few bright moments lit up an otherwise dull, drab day and then? An open vista, cargo ships sailing down the Clyde into open waters, a light sky, evening birdsong, flickering lights across the water. SO different from last evenings view which finished at the fence posts!

Days are shorter, the chicken ladies headed up the hill before seven, well there were no treats and no sunset to stay up for, breakfast times seems to be getting later too. No doubt about it; autumn sent a postcard and winter is sure to follow! 😀

Have a great day, thanks for stopping by!

Scotch Mist

“What’s that – Scotch mist?” was a frequent exasperated exclamation in the family home, as my mother raised her eyebrows skyward. True; you may not be able to see it but you can feel each minuscule drop seep into every crack and crevice. Taken unaware by the beauty of the fennel fronds illuminated in the fading light, I grabbed the camera to capture the evenings brief beauty.

Bit of a challenge taking hand-held photos in such low light levels but I hope you will agree – worth getting wet for!  😀

The garden, shrouded in mist, each flower garlanded with tiny raindrops, faerie lights in miniature. No grand sunset or panoramic views – just the world made small – causing one to stop and marvel at the beauty. But maybe I’m a simple soul with simple pleasures. Enjoy!

Thanks for stopping by today; what brings you pleasure to treasure on a wet day?