reflecting

Hello, after another lengthy pause on the blog. This has been a year when my attention has been fragmented across different issues and family members and consequently blogging has fallen by the wayside.

My father spent a couple of weeks in hospital at the end of last month and I stayed with my mother who has been diagnosed with Alzeimer's disease. My father is now back at home, well, but a little more confused than before so as you can imagine the situation is a very fragile one.

I have been trying to sort out some care for them which is proving difficult as they are both independent types who assure me they can cope on their own without help - not an easy situation.

The last few days have been quiet here though that may change as we feel the effects of the edge of the storms forecast for the north of the country.

Quiet seems appropriate for this solstice time of year, the darkest time, a time to withdraw and reflect. We are a small family and our Christmas is very low-key so I don't have to get caught up in the hustle and bustle of the festival.

Sometimes I think that we make it just a bit too quiet, it can feel as if we are the only ones not invited to the party! Generally though I like the empty time at the end of the year.

2016 has been a difficult year for us, starting with the death of my father-in-law, followed by my husband breaking his leg, some job issues for our children and now the illness of my parents. I contemplate the best way to cope with the situation. Obviously I want to help, but such help has to be sustainable. Trying to balance caring and helping my parents with working, looking after my home, my immediate family and my own health is not easy.

I am going for walks in the countryside, taking photographs and trying to slow down as the year comes to an end.

I am hoping to blog more regularly next year. Introspection and withdrawal can lead to loss of connection and I value the connections I have made through this blog which is almost ten years old. Walking and photography are important ways to relax for me and the blog is a good place to record my pictures and thoughts.

I particularly like the photograph below taken during the darkest time of the year but showing fresh new shoots on the honeysuckle, appropriate as we head away from the winter solstice to longer brighter days ahead.

I'd like to wish everyone a Happy Christmas and a calm and peaceful 2017.

Hello August

Hello there. All is fine here. I haven't posted in a while, there is a lot going on at the moment in my non-blog world and I couldn't seem to find the space in my head to think about blogging.

As it is the first day of a new month I wanted to try and get started again. These are a few photographs from my walk yesterday.

The countryside has changed over the last few weeks as we move past midsummer into harvest time. The wheat is ripening, the barley was cut a few weeks ago, and the verges are full of tall grasses and hogweed. The rain earlier in the year seems to have made everything grow vigorously this year.

I usually post pictures of the landscape and mainly flowers so for a change, some cows having their breakfast

a butterfly sunning itself on the brambles

and this little bird who was singing his heart out yesterday morning.

I'm not very knowledgeable on birds, is it a greenfinch?

I am hoping to get back into the habit of taking photographs and posting again. Susannah Conway is hosting  "the August Break" again this year and I'm intending to post a few pictures to the flickr group  - always interesting to see how others interpret the prompts.

December sunshine

After a spell of grey windy days todays sunshine made a welcome change. It was still breezy and I managed to get three loads of washing dried outside. Also I gardened, mainly picking up leaves and enjoyed the mild temperatures.

The weather was so nice, I made time for a walk with my camera around mid-day - here are a few photographs.

 The sun, low in the sky, shining through the remaining leaves

and adding a touch of brightness to the landscape.

The oak leaves were the brightest

but even the humble moss seemed to shine in the sun.

The hedges have been trimmed now but the slanting rays of the sun slip through the normally dense growth.

With the hedges at their shortest, little views emerge that would be hidden when the hedge is in full leaf and several feet taller. A glimpse of the church across the fields.

In the bright sunshine against a blue sky, the remaining oak leaves were the star of the show

though as it is December I've included some seasonal holly.

evening sun

A few photographs from an evening walk. Photographers talk about the "golden hour", the time just after sunrise or before sunset when the sun is low in the sky. The colours are softer and more red/golden and there is less contrast between areas in and out of shadow. Sunset is just after 9pm here and so the magic time is between eight and nine.

a little adventure

A few photographs from our short holiday, we went to Lundy. This little island, now in the care of the National Trust and the Landmark Trust is just 3½ miles long and ½ a mile wide.

It felt like an adventure because we were leaving the mainland and travelling by helicopter, just a six minute flight. We had booked a three night break but due to dense fog we couldn't leave the first day so we had to make do with only two days. When we did arrive though it was like stepping into another world.

The scenery is stunning. The west coast which takes the full force of the Atlantic is more rugged

while the more sheltered east side is gentler in appearance with little patches of woodland in secluded valleys.

This is the village on the island and the blue building on the right is where we stayed.

The whole island is "open access" so you can wander wherever you like. There are working lighthouses on both the north and south of the island.

On the highest part of the island is the Old Light. This was operational for a few years but because of the prevalence of low cloud over the island there were many days when it wasn't visible so the two newer light houses were built closer to sea level. When I climbed up the old light I found these two deck chairs on the platform where the light used to be. I sat down and looked out westwards at the Atlantic - no land until America.

We didn't see many people on our walks but we weren't alone, wild deer,

the island's wild herd of Soay sheep and all the time in the north of the island the sound of skylarks.

The island is managed by the Landmark Trust and all the houses are used for staff accommodation or visitors. The houses have no televisions, there is no public wifi on the island and mobile phone signal is very patchy. It really did feel as if we had escaped the rat race for a while. Plenty of time to wander, take photographs, read and knit.

In the evenings we ate in the Marisco Tavern, excellent food with plenty of vegetarian options - a perfect way to end days spent outdoors.

All too soon our two days were over and after just six minutes in the helicopter we had left this little bit of paradise behind. It is so close to the mainland yet so different once you get there, I definitely want to go back.

spring garden

We have just returned from a weekend break. I will post some pictures but at the moment I am still sorting through a ridiculously large amount of photographs from just three days away. I remember the days of film when I would have considered a 36 print film more than adequate for a weekend away, yet  I have several times that number to sort through. Something to think about, whether to take fewer pictures so that "sort through photographs" doesn't turn into a time consuming chore on a to do list.

On the other hand the ease of taking many photographs means that I am happy to record the changes in the garden through the seasons, something that I wouldn't have done in as much detail if I was paying for developing and printing.

I took the photographs earlier this morning, a few days before spring officially starts and already there is plenty of colour in the garden, a refreshing change after the dull, grey winter.