March. 2014. Today it feels like spring!

Birthday daffodils from a friend. 

 I was writing in my journal this morning, and I'll echo the words here in this blog.
"Sitting here just after my breakfast, looking out at the back garden  through the expanse of the patio window.
The sky is clearing from it's overnight rain.
Grey clouds mingling with white, and tints of veiled blue beginning to make their presence known.
The two magpies,who are building a nest a couple of gardens along, have been here looking for twigs and small branches. Cocky, strutting birds, with a swagger, and a sheen of black and white plumage.
Mother blackbird, of our garden pair, is digging up worms in the bottom lawn.
She now overturns clumps of moss in here search.
Father bird sitting on the pinnacle of the summerhouse.
A fat wood-pigeon balances on a branch of our ancient apple tree, trying to reach seed from the feeders, but I have already placed them where the pigeons cannot reach.
The light is returning to this part of our hemisphere, and a sense of spring after the wettest winter since records began.
  Father blackbird is now singing his beautiful song. A glimmer of sunshine brightens the green of the shrubs and box hedge, until it reaches the far boundary fence.
A plane glides round in the sky on it's gradual descent to the airport several miles away."
                 

After breakfast I went to buy a new pair of garden secateurs from a nearby centre in order to complete the spring pruning of the roses. The centre borders on some fields. As I was walking back to the car, I heard the liquid notes of a skylark, soaring up into the clear blue. The first I have heard this year. Such a joyful sound. I stopped to listen.

To a Skylark

BY WILLIAM WORDSWORTH

Ethereal minstrel! pilgrim of the sky!

Dost thou despise the earth where cares abound?

Or, while the wings aspire, are heart and eye

Both with thy nest upon the dewy ground?

Thy nest which thou canst drop into at will,

Those quivering wings composed, that music still!

Leave to the nightingale her shady wood;

A privacy of glorious light is thine;

Whence thou dost pour upon the world a flood

Of harmony, with instinct more divine;

Type of the wise who soar, but never roam;

True to the kindred points of Heaven and Home!

      

 I came home and began to prune the roses, not needing a coat or jacket, with the sun warm on my face. Spring is beginning once more in that great cycle of seasons and life, with it the season of Lent, which began this week with Shrove Tuesday.

Tiger on my birthday in February.

      A group of us spent Ash Wednesday evening in a time of reflection, and shared Communion together. It was very special.
   So another season of the year unfolds................................................................
    

Snapshots of time. January 2014.

At the moment, I have been fascinated each day by two magpies in a neighbouring tree, as they have begun to reconstruct their old nest. (This web photo shows one already finished.) They take several weeks, as it is a domed structure, and the inside lined with mud, which dries. 

   I do not particularly like magpies, as they are noisy, in your face, kinds of birds which steal eggs and new chicks from other nests. That is nature I suppose, as each creature has to eat. They can't go out and buy their food.  Yet as I can see them now from my window in the neighbour's tree, they are already busy at the beginning of this grey January day, bringing small twigs in their large beaks, then working together to place them exactly where they want them to be fixed.    

   They have my sneaking admiration for their diligence and effort, being completely focused on the task in hand.               

Early January. Afternoon sun.  

As it has been some time since my last post, I thought I would simply attach photos of random things in January. It has been the wettest month for a century  particularly in the South and South West of England. many places are still flooded. It has also been very mild, and the blackbirds have begun to sing early. I still have flowering roses! Here at least in the West Midlands we have not had the awful floods of Somerset and other counties further South. We did have some snow flurries yesterday, but nothing like the freeze of last January.
    The beginning of February traditionally seems to herald snow in the first two weeks, but we will have to wait and see................................in these topsy turvy seasons anything can happen.  

......

Irises blooming! 

A halo round the sun.  

January roses.

Moonlit sky. 

Snowdrops in Cambridge. We spent a couple of days there on January 26th - 27th. 

A morning walk. Moor Hall Golf Club estate. Sutton Coldfield.
Mid January. 

King's College. Cambridge.
January 27th.

The magnificent King's College Chapel.
Cambridge. January 27th 

Nest building January 30th 2014

Nest under construction in nearby tree. 

Snow flurries. 30th January.  

December 17th 2013.

Sunrise early December

I woke this morning snug and warm under the duvet. It was still dark at 6.30a.m.  I listened to the song of a robin travelling through the stillness. Hubby was asleep at my side. Gradually the sky lightened imperceptibly bit by bit, until a piercingly bright clear blue sky appeared, and the last stars  faded 

It was cold outside. Frost on the cars. Ice in the birdbaths. 

A glorious morning. 

A small flock of greenfinches eventually gathered in the ash tree next door, taking what was left of the pendulous seeds. 

Six redwings have appeared, and gather each day in the silver birch at the end of the garden. I love redwings. I wondered where they had begun their journey to our shores for the winter. I know that Scandinavia can be a starting point. The migration of birds in spring and winter never ceases to fascinate me. The why's and how's. There are still some things that scientists cannot readily prove.  The goldfinches arrived to feed and squabble on the nyjer seed holders hanging off the old apple tree. 

So the day began.   

Christmas is everywhere, inescapable, lights, shops, cards, trees in windows, houses glowing in the dark, some of them probably overloading the National grid! Hard to escape the mayhem at times and remember the real meaning behind it all. 

At lunchtime hubby and I and two good friends went to a lunchtime Carol Concert in the Cathedral in Birmingham.  

It was in aid of the Make a Wish Foundation.   http://www.make-a-wish.org.uk/ which grants wishes to children fighting with life threatening conditions. 

Once inside the Cathedral, facing the east window, you are faced with the beauty of the Burne Jones stained glass with sunlight pouring through. The colours are so vibrant.  

 The Choir, made up of  mainly young lawyers from one of the City firms began to sing the Introit, " Jesus Christ, the Apple Tree " before processing down the nave to the familiar congregational hymn, "Oh Come all ye Faithful"
I would not be able to count how many times down the years I have sung those familiar words, with various choirs and small groups, not to mention church carol services, from as far back as I can remember. They are timeless. Steeped in history.
   It was a treat to hear all those crystal clear voices, blending together in beautiful harmonies, singing traditional  and lesser well known pieces.
    One of my own personal favourites has to be a John Rutter carol, "What Sweeter Music"
         It moved me so much that it brought tears to my eyes. So many memories contained in the emotion that rose up within me.   I love to sing.              
   Time to reflect.
Time to stop.
Time to remember.
Time to celebrate the Christmas story once again.

 This evening I went out in the neighbourhood to deliver the last of the cards by hand. I met three other folk engaged in the same task.
There was a huge moon in the cold sky. Glimpses through windows of twinkling Christmas trees and cosy rooms. The night air cold and clear.
       After being invited in to a couple of the houses where I was delivering cards, and having a cup of tea in the last one, it took me longer than I expected! But that, for me, was a bonus.
   It's always a pleasure when someone opens the door and beams at you saying, " Come in, I'll put the kettle on"!
     And so back home to the warmth and lights of our own Christmas tree twinkling in the darkness................Christmas approaches...........            

November already!

Well, November is here! 

Everyone is talking about the approach of Christmas. 

It does not seem that long ago that we were watching the autumn unfold. As we turned our clocks back one hour at the beginning of the month, it really did signal the end of a glorious summer and autumn,and heralded the onset of winter.

The weather changes,and I often feel like hibernating! My days spent in the garden or outside curtailed when the sun begins to lower in the sky around 3.15pm.

 But it made me think about painting once more.So I got out my brushes and began...
thinking I would perhaps make a Christmas card from a photograph of the hills where I used to live in Rossendale, Lancashire. On a very wet, dripping, half light day, I took myself off to the loft room and settled into becoming completely absorbed in my task. Time did not matter......So although we mourn the loss of sunlit summer days, and a glorious autumn now on the wane, there is opportunity to create, and to sit and read a good book. Snuggled and warm. Sounds idyllic doesn't it!
I fully appreciate for others it is not so. For me it one of the pleasures of being in my mid 60's, where I value the time to "stand and stare....."

Cherry tree leaves glowing in the November
sunshine.  

            
Today is Remembrance Sunday in the United Kingdom.

I always watch the special service which takes place in London. My own father having been in the Army and gone across to France on D-Day  in WW2. He never talked about all he had seen, becoming quite emotional, and declaring that war is horrific and although he decided to fight for his country against the tide of Hitler's reign, it left a long and deep running scar.  Remembrance Sunday to him was sacred. All he wanted us to know was that we should not forget the sacrifice of so many lives. And his hope that there would never be another war.................. 

So I and countless other children growing up in the 1950's lived with rationing, but a land free of bombing raids and destruction. A childhood I personally now look back on with great affection. Our dad of course did return........

Now the war is against hidden enemies and carried out with all the latest technical equipment and arms available. A continuing struggle with extremism and man's inhumanity to man.
 So we take the time to remember and never forget.  
http://www.bbc.co.uk/news/uk-24887778


  

A very special post box.........

Long ago in the mists of time, a young man of 18 was heading up to Cambridge University in the October of 1970.

He had not long been going out with a young lady of a mere 22! 

That young lady was of course myself. 

In those days neither of our parents had a telephone, nor had we internet, mobile phones or any other devices which gave us instant access to communicate with each other.
This meant we wrote to each other, mostly daily, for three years, when Stephen was at Churchill  college.
These letters are now numbered, dated, and kept in a box. Very special memories.
      This blog has been prompted by our friend's daughter going up to Cambridge University this past week.
She has instant access to all her friends and her family, via Facebook and mobile, amongst other things. I sometimes wonder if letters will become obsolete, notwithstanding the actual price of a stamp!

Stephen at the post box in 1971

        However, Stephen and I survived his first term apart for 8 weeks. I was a young primary school teacher living at home, which was in Rossendale, Lancashire, many miles, or so it seemed then, from each other.
The letters dropping on to the mat each day were anticipated with a sense of warmth.
    We got engaged on Christmas Eve 1970, and when he went back to University in January 1971 there was a 7 week postal strike. It was so hard. We relied on a 3 minute phone call, me from a phone box in the next avenue to our road, and he having to book or wait his turn in halls.
  Yet we still wrote to each other most every day, and at the end of the strike, we each posted a big fat packet of letters!        
So as you can see, should you be reading this blog, the post box in the photo is very significant. It is Just down the road from Churchill College in Madingley Road, and I wonder if it is still there!

Last day of September in the garden... First day of October, Baddesley Clinton, National Trust gardens

"Birthday Boy" rose.
Bought for my dad on his 90th birthday.
Now in our border. 

Dahlia border Baddesley Clinton

Victorian vegetable garden. Baddesley Clinton

Sunday Morning...........towards October

The house is quiet  and Tiger has come in from his nocturnal wanderings, wherever he happens to go, and has gone into the loft to curl up on a chair and sleep. Hubby is still asleep. 

I have had a cuppa, and decided to address my neglected blog musings. We did have, still have, an extension of the summer weather. A few blips this past month here and there,but not many. My friend complaining that her garden is dry. Me thinking the other day, I need to water the border plants. I shall redeem them today!    

Yes, there was more tea in the pot!  

Colour is everywhere outside the window. The roses are still blooming, and I dead headed most of them before we went on holiday once more at the beginning of the month. We returned after a couple of weeks to a bright display and more sunflowers smiling at us. Even though I planted the seeds late after the awful long bitter winter, the warmth and sunshine of the last few months has encouraged them to grow late in the season.    

Today I will spend in the garden. I need the solace sometimes. It is a place where I go when I withdraw for a time. I miss my lovely oldest son and that will never change. September containing the anniversary of his death, seven years ago this year. I have so enjoyed the summer, and know it one he would've loved. Only yesterday was one of those times when the pain of loss returned unexpectedly. Sparing the details here.....I write another blog all about Matthew, a place where I can express my thoughts in a far more personal way. This blog is not for that. More of an on-line journey through the year, encapsulating random ideas and the passing of the seasons. I enjoy looking back once I reach December.
                 Hard to imagine now just how much we all longed for last winter to end.            

"Simply the Best" rose. Aptly named

"Ingrid Bergman" flowering again

Autumn sunshine on "Sir Cliff Richard"

Tiger relaxing once more, having finally forgiven me
 for putting him into the cattery when we went to France     

                                              October beckons.........