Scene change

summer•shorts no:13

The view from The Wild Wood was transformed from summer to early autumn this week. The dust in the air and rumble of the combine harvester signalled the end of summer – a quick scene change this year as the 24/7 mechanical munching endeavours to out-smart the weather.

Now the scuffle and thud of the baler, leaving the field dotted with rectangular blocks of straw. Soon a new back-drop will fill the view from The Wild Wood – brown earth furrows, spiky skeletal trees and hedgerows and dark birds against the sky.

Cattle in the meadow and stars up above

summer•shorts no:12

Today was a perfect late summer Sunday – after lunch we walked one of our favourite routes along the Stour valley from Long Melford, approaching Sudbury via the timeless meadows. Cattle wade in the cooling river shallows just as they have done for many centuries.

After an indulgent cream tea in the Mill Hotel, fruit scones (I think a real cream tea should have plain scones - is that just me being picky?) clotted cream and strawberry jam; we wandered back to the riverside, taking a short cut through St Gregory's churchyard. The ancient carved doorway seemed to invite us inside the cool quiet church, where we discovered this glorious painted ceiling . . .

Last rays of the sun

summer•shorts no:10

Cure-all, protector, forecaster of storms . . .

The Carline Thistle
Carlina vulgaris

Reflecting the last colours of the evening sky . . .

A Chalkhill Blue butterfly (Polyommatus coridon)
pauses on the delicate florets of
the Small Scabious (Scabiosa columbaria).


Dusky pompom bobbing above the grassy bank . . .

The Devil's Bit Scabious (Scabiosa pratensis) whose
stunted root Old Nick chewed to steal its
soothing power.


Photos taken during our walk on The Devil's Dyke yesterday evening.

A morning well spent

summer•shorts no:09

I spent this morning in Cambridge . . .

1) bought new shoes at the best ever shoe shop :-)

2) got fitted! . . . I'm what size!!!! oooooo la la!

3) cultural fix – went to the Fitzwilliam to see Endless Forms: Darwin, Natural Science and the Visual Arts – this is the big one for Cambridge University's 800th year and the Darwin bicentenary, it takes up all six of the museum's temporary exhibition spaces. Surprising, fascinating, beautiful – brilliant!. I now need to sit down and reflect . . .

4) and drink an ice cold Fentiman's Ginger Beer.

Under big skies

summer•shorts no:08

Yesterday we drove diagonally across Suffolk from our most south-westerly corner to this rather aristocratic garden in the far north-east of the county, tucked between the wide Waveney water marshes and the North Sea on the Somerleyton Estate. As you can see, the sun was shining and the sky was full of very artistic clouds which East Anglia does so well. I particularly liked the tipsily swaying yew topiary.

Back home, we quickly refueled with a ham salad, grabbed a box of goodies for 'afters' and a couple of bottles of Beck's and headed off to Saffron Walden – we had a cunning plan . . .

. . . we headed up the hill to the big iron gate leading into the back of the Audley End Estate, along the footpath and across a grassy field; as we did so, an orchestra in the distance played the Dambusters March and a Spitfire soared across the sky above, arched and tumbled back towards us! We didn't get to see Katherine Jenkins in her gorgeous frocks or see the orchestra, but we could hear them loud and clear as we sat and watched the sun set, drank our beer and ate marsh-mallows. Our evening's entertainment ended with a splendid firework display – I didn't take any photos but Gina was down there in the official audience and has posted some here. Now that's how to have the 'Last Night of the Proms' experience without the 'getting out of the car-park' finale ;-)

I am the chutney-wallah walli*

summer•shorts no:07

This scrumptious mixture of freshly chopped Czar plums (picked from my Mum's garden yesterday), apples, onions, raisins, brown sugar, vinegar and spices is now simmering gently on the hob. It's gradually turning a rich shade of deep 'Suffolk pink' and filling the house with a sweet-sour warm spiciness.

Listening to TMS would have been the perfect accompaniment to my labours – but rain has stopped play and the BBC has (wisely in my opinion) decided that a whole day of Geoffrey Boycott's reminiscences would be just too much for the listener at home to take and have switched off coverage for the day.

There has been just a little drizzle here this afternoon, in fact it's dry now and pleasantly warm – I could sit outside (within sight of the cauldron, of course) and attempt to complete the big crossword at the back of the Saturday paper :-)

Have a good weekend
Celia
x

* thank you to mangocheeks for the grammatical gender correction

Ginger's hoard

summer•shorts no:06

There has been a distinct lack of pastel blue/green eggs, I haven't been able to supply friends with their regular boxes of half a dozen mixed colours and sizes – the disappointment and realisation that they would have to buy eggs that weren't quite as tasty, was visible on their faces :-(

Nutmeg Spice has been broody again and Saffron Spice has started her first moult – that would explain things wouldn't it? . . . but! wait a moment – it's the pale sage green egg that I haven't seen in the egg tray for some time. Ginger Spice! what's she been up to? I can't remember seeing her sitting in the nest box for days. When we were on holiday in May, Ginger Spice was so annoyed by Saffron and Nutmeg in their broody-mood refusing to leave the nest-box, that she laid her eggs elsewhere – I wonder? I'll just check . . .

. . . under the privet hedge in front of the patio, right against the house wall – Ginger's hoard! (sigh)

A butterfly summer

summer•shorts no:05

Leeks left to go to seed attract all kinds of beneficial insects to the vegetable garden, and butterflies love them too.

The resident Comma butterfly with its artfully 'ragged' wings has been joined by a beautiful Painted Lady – is she one of the 20 million or more, which made their amazing migration to Britain from North Africa this summer or one of their first off-spring?

Piccalilli

summer•shorts no:04

The cat got up and stretched
herself, and came and
sniffed the basket.
Perhaps she liked the smell
of onions!
Anyway, she sat down upon
the top of the basket.

She sat there for five hours.

from 'The Tale of Benjamin Bunny'
by Beatrix Potter

From the vegetable garden, I've just gathered the ingredients to make Piccalilli – cauliflowers, green beans ('Lazy Housewife' and 'Bridgewater'), gherkins and . . .

. . . shallots – if the tabby one lets me rearrange her day-bed!

En plein air

summer•shorts no:03

Did you see the BBC TV programme about David Hockney painting in Yorkshire*? I thought, 'I don't do enough of that - looking and painting outside in the open air'. Art historians call it en plein air, I don't think Hockney uses that phrase. I was struck by the fact that the wild young man of 'Swinging London' and Californian pool-sides had come home; he is a dour, opinionated Yorkshireman in a flat cap and probably always has been – that made me smile.

Today I took my lunch, paints and sketchbook out into the fields. This is a route we walk often and over the past few weeks I've been 'mind-sketching' the softly undulating fields and placing the woods and copses within the space. I'd thought about the colours changing as the summer approaches its climax. It was like a niggling itch in my mind – I needed to put brush to paper.

This is today's painting of Littley Wood under a sky full of scudding clouds.

* the programme is available to watch online until 4 August

We all went to the moon

summer•shorts no:02

My Godfather went to live in California, so I never really got to know him – but he always sent me a Christmas present. These invariably arrived very late and in a very bashed up condition; one year I got a huge doll called Baby Secret who whispered in an American accent when a string was pulled; the next year it was a dented metal box containing a microscope with glass slides and test tubes.

Choosing presents and posting them obviously became a chore; the following year I received a letter from National Geographic telling me a subscription had been paid for and I would receive a magazine each month. Not the most suitable present for a little girl who was still avidly reading Milly Molly Mandy books, but I loved getting the big yellow envelope from America every month and I especially liked the maps and wallcharts.

The thing that I remember most was following the Apollo missions to the Moon. In February 1969 the National Geographic magazine came with a map of 'The Earth's Moon' – front and back, with all the craters and features named. I've still got it, complete with the pin hole where I stuck in a pin on July 20th 1969 to mark where "the Eagle has landed".

Time for summer shorts

Last summer I introduced PPP-lite – quick snippets of news from my garden and studio. I've lots of plans for projects in the studio and garden while the sun shines; so, while I'm busy with other things for a couple of months, I'll be posting summer•shorts . . .

summer•shorts no:01

A Comma butterfly basking on a globe artichoke
in the vegetable garden early this morning.