aladdin's cave

freezing fogs, mist, and haw frost are making for magical morning walks.

autumn colours

Our favourite lane has slipped into its autumnal livery.

the drive into Duchy College is lined with sweet chestnuts and looks very grand at this time of year.

on the road to autumn

morning glory

The lanes feel beautiful now with the larks above and the morning sun.

and it's getting greener

the canopy is gradually closing in and turning green (see same spot a bit earlier this year)

still only almost there

and so we wait with baited breath for things to begin to grow, and some warmth in our old bones. Last year our magnolia stellata was in full bloom by now, but it is still only at the bud stage this year. My heart sank when I heard that someone is once again predicting a hot dry summer. This will be the fourth or fifth year in a row that the same prediction has been made (Spot's entire life time has been spent in the rain it would seem); apart from the fact that we have had extremely wet summers for ages now sooner or later they are bound to get it right by chance alone. Please stop predicting hot summers. And here is a cheerful thought from James Lovelock.

almost there

a bit more warmth and our native daffodils will be out, meanwhile Spot and Harriet are practising a concept quite new to them, cooperation.

even more browner things

Has Spring failed? Not quite. In fact when we looked back over Spot's private archives going back to 2000, several Springs have been like this, although never so dry. And if you are wondering how long a sparrow might stay on a feeder full of peanuts larger than the mesh, I know a man who has an answer.

a brown time

one of the stranger consequences of this long cold dry period is that everything has turned a light brown. Normally at this time of year (and all year) Cornwall is a rich vivid green. But no grass is growing yet, and the landscape looks as if Nature has taken to painting in watercolours. The sun is still quite low in the sky and in the morning and evening the world around us has taken on a novel hue.

For the last couple of weeks a pair of jackdaws have taken to sitting in a fir tree overlooking our garden. One of them is making a sound like a creaking branch or a very rough purr. I can't find any reference to this call but I assume it is a love poem. They are very interesting birds.

the road to Down House

the little lane down to Down House is once again full of colour, and the first Spring daffodils are coming into flower with the snowdrops and crocuses

at the end of the road

by some happy chance there was gold at the end of the lane this evening.

a lovely evening

on the road to Horsebridge

two views of lanes, one to the major metropolis of Pempwell (top), the other (bottom pic) to the ancient bridge over the Tamar (Horsebridge, or Horsa's bridge) across which lies the equally ancient hostelry, the Royal Inn, in Devon, England (Dartmoor is visible on the horizon). Just to the right of the lower picture you can see another of our little finger posts.

my lane, goodnight, my lane

I'll see you in my dreams

Out for a walk

the light in the morning is lovely at this time of year. In the distance, on the other side of the Inny valley you can see the little village of Treburley (home of the Springer Spaniel pub). I think the Lurcher would also be a winning name for a local pub.

Try clicking on the lane label under this picture to get a flavour of our lanes through the year.

It is that time of year again, the martins are getting ready to go, the lanes are as overgrown as they get before the hedgerows are shorn, and the sloes are abundant.

foxglove lane

It has been a very good year for foxgloves. The hedgerows are full of them. We have moved on from blue to purple and mauve.

May is out

the hawthorn is out, so out with the clowts/clouts (see link). Classic lane view as well.

ok, just one more bluebell picture

the bluebells in the banks by the road into our village make even the drive into work a pleasure!

blackthorn blossoming on Rowden lane, a long wide bridle path between Trecombe and Stoke Climsland.