Morning glow

Yesterday, as Little Owl and I drove towards Edinburgh we encountered a beautiful sight. While the south side of the Forth river was darkened by thick rain clouds, the hills of the Kingdom of Fife on the north side were emblazoned with sunlight. They could have been made of solid gold the way they were illuminated. Beyond them the sky was pale blue, streaked with hues of oranges and creams. It reminded me of a story told by the poet Edwin Muir, when his wife was seriously ill. Waiting one day by the doctor’s door he “…glanced at a little tree a few steps away. A lamp above the door shone straight on it, illuminating it like a Christmas tree, and on one of the twigs a robin was sitting, looking at me, quite without fear, with its round eyes, its bright breast liquidly glowing in the light. As I stared at it out of my worry, which was a world of its own, the small glittering object had an unearthly radiance, and seemed to be pouring light into the darkness without and the darkness inside myself. It astonished and reassured me.” Here is a drawing of another such moment.

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Wildlife encounters

This weekend was a packed one for wildlife sightings. On a walk with our friend Emily we spotted three little frogs hanging out in some muddy puddles. Little Owl loved it when we gently tickled them with some grass and they hopped. On returning to the car I narrowly avoided standing on an Elephant Hawk-moth caterpillar with its distinctive trunk. The Elephant Hawk-moth caterpillar is number 8 on the link here if you’d like to see one. We lifted him up on a dock leaf and put him in the verge so we didn’t squash him as we drove off.

My favourite sighting was a skein of geese heading south. We accompanied them on their journey for a few miles as we headed home on Friday. My eye was caught by movement in one of the harvested wheat fields as we passed. It was covered in a huge number of geese taking a break from their long flight. Early the next morning I popped out into the garden. It was frosty and the shed roof steamed gently in the warmth of the rising sun. I could hear them well before I could see them. Then high high above me several long lines of geese dotted the pale morning sky.

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In a spin

My first week back at college has been jam-packed with a mixture of activities. I’ve been drawing inky red kites (the bird that is) onto tracing paper to be stuck onto a window. I’ve made origami boxes to be filled with beads and hung on string to make a rattle. There have been multiple meetings about the plans for the year ahead. All in all it left me in a bit of a spin. Little Owl wanted things pinning down too.

“Lu picka me up?” she asked earnestly on the way to nursery.

“Of course,” I replied.

A few moments later she fixed me with a long stare. “Lu picka me up?”

“Yes, Little Owl. I’ll definitely pick you up.” She nodded and settled into her car seat, quietly sucking her thumb for the rest of the journey.

As the week draws to a close I can feel myself settling back down to it all too. Next week we start work on our proposals for our final year project. When it’s done I shall announce it here with much pomp and ceremony! Here is a drawing I did this week of a dappled beech wood on a bright sunny day.

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New term

I find the start of the new school year quite an evocative time. The mornings always seem especially fresh on the first one back to school. This morning there was a nip in the air. My car was coated in a chilly dew. In reality we have just got up earlier than in the holidays and are playing catch-up with the season. The heater goes on in the car and we rub our hands together. Arriving at college I am met by that wall of heat you only seem to find in educational institutions. The kind that is heavily scented by a certain floral air freshener. It hugs you and even on a bright day conjures up images in my mind of staring out of a rain splattered classroom window and soggy shoes in the playground. The perfect bedtime story for Little Owl on a day such as this was Fuzzypeg goes to School. One of my favourites. Little Owl shuffled down under her duvet after her first day back at nursery, too tired to even say goodnight.

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Butterflies and buddleia

As part of our gardening escapades we’ve been planting some insect friendly specimens to attract butterflies and bees to our garden. Most of these attempts have been severely curtailed by the rabbits but one that has done well has been our buddleia. This was in spite of our next door neighbour’s dark warnings about where I’d planted it. I surrounded the base with chicken wire so that the rabbits could have the odd chew of an overhanging branch without gnawing the heart of it to death…as they have a tendency to do. So I was pleased as punch to see a peacock butterfly warming its wings on one of the flower heads.

Little Owl and I are back to nursery and college on Monday. While I’m excited about starting my final year I have to own up to the odd nightmare about it this week. You know the kind where you turn up to collect your degree and you’re naked sort of thing. In the mean time I’m stitching name tags to over-sized clothes that should see Little Owl through the year. She starts off the year with sleeves down to her knees and ends it with them up at her elbows.

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Otter Tracks

Last week Little Owl and I were down by the river. It’s still looking pretty sodden down there following the summer deluge. The vegetation is making a come back but it’s mainly the most pervasive species. The wild flowers haven’t recovered. All we found were lots of herb robert, scattered tormentil, a few sprigs of common ragwort and some patches of hardheads (knapweed). Something we did spot however, were otter tracks on a sandy patch of river bank. The excitement of the discovery was lost on Little Owl who just looked at me quizzically as she tried out the new word, “Ot-ta.”

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Odd spuds

Is this the weirdest looking potato? I wish we’d unearthed it in time for the village horticultural show. We’d definitely have won the best vegetable monster prize with it. We’ve had a great crop from our rubble sacks. I love searching for the potatoes in amongst the dark earth with Little Owl. She just can’t understand where they are all coming from. “More!” she shouts, rubbing her hands with glee.

The weather has been windy but warm and bright. Although one of the cattlemen warned me not to get too used to it. “This is back end weather,” he muttered, shaking his head. The thistles have been releasing their seeds in vast wafts. Little Owl thinks they are fairies and I find collections of them just inside the front door where she has ‘rescued’ them from the garden.

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Dip pens

These arrived the other day and I’m chuffed to bits with them. They are three dip pens from a lady in Italy. One of them is broken but the other two work just fine. Aren’t they beautiful?

I’m obsessed with dip pens because they are the main thing I draw with. You’d be surprised how many beauties turn up in antique and bric-a-brac shops. Their simple design means they usually work just as well as when they were first made. I love to buy old ones over new because I like the idea of the handling an old one has had. In a way, I suppose I find companionship in them. It’s the thought of someone else scratching away with the same pen on a dark winter’s evening under an angle poise lamp, just like me. I always wonder to myself if that person was as good as me at knocking over the bottle of ink.

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Rhubarb jam

Everyone is agreed that it’s been a bad year in the garden. One plant that has thrived where others have not is rhubarb. We now have four crowns in our garden and we’ve had a bumper crop. Big Dreamer has made bottle after bottle of rhubarb wine, rhubarb cider, and rhubarb cordial (all delicious) so I decided to contribute by making jam. I found a recipe for rhubarb jam with oranges from Mrs Beeton and this is the result. Although very tasty it looks like chutney and has a disconcerting appearance when spread on toast.

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Garlic

This evening was golden as the sun set. The hills were purple and bronze with heather. Coming back later on from a friend’s house, through dark windy lanes, rabbits and mice scattered to the verges in the beam of my headlights. The moon was bright in the sky and a tractor worked late in the fields. Although it’s five degrees cooler here than Devon and we were sad to say goodbye to friends and family, it’s good to be home. As our lives go on all the people we love the most seem to get more and more widely dispersed. I wonder if there is a half way point where we all start to contract in again. In the mean time we have pencilled in lots of visits.

One of the first things we had to do on arriving home was gather a swift harvest. We podded broad beans and peas. We also pulled up Big Dreamer’s garlic. Big Dreamer has decided to try and dry it for use over the winter. The best place he could find was the airing cupboard. For anyone coming to see us in the near future be warned, your bedding is going to be peculiarly fragrant but you won’t have to worry about vampires.

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