Month: February 2024

Window Shopping: Looking In, Looking Out?

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A pre-Christmas break a few years ago. We were in Hay-on-Wye, the quaint Welsh border town on the banks of the mighty River Wye. Its primary claim to fame is that it’s full of second-hand book stores, including the world’s largest started in 1961 by Richard Booth, he who later declared himself King of Hay and was all-round responsible for putting the town on the booklovers’ map.

Richard Booth window shopping

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But even bibliophiles need a break from browsing the stacks, so there are also cosy cafes, quirky antiques shops and artisan crafts emporia to wander round. There’s even a castle, bought by Richard Booth in 1970 and recently restored to provide all manner of cultural events and exhibitions.

And talking of booklovers’ maps, here are some actual maps.

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On the street below the castle we found a shop selling antiquarian ephemera, including prints and old Ordnance Survey maps. My eye was instantly caught by this well kitted-out young woman. She won’t get lost, I thought; a new-old take on tracking devices – rambling jacket made of maps. (You can just see the outline of the pre-restored castle in the reflection behind her.)

Here’s the full shop frontage.

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That gaze says determination, doesn’t it. Madam definitely knows where she’s going.

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But back to the mysterious header photo;window shopping

It was a strange experience to find myself regarded through a slit in an otherwise blanked-out shop window. It makes me wonder, which of us is doing the window shopping? There she was – watchful, wistful, captive or femme fatale? – looking out from what proved to be a vintage costume store. She lured us in of course.

And finally, Hay at twilight:

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Lens-Artists: window shopping  This week Ritva sets the challenge. Please see her post for creative tips on how to approach it.

Once heard…

Marsh Pride male 1 ed

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…never quite forgotten.

Thrilling and chilling both: a wild lion, in broad daylight, proclaiming his eminence. And not a full-throated Metro-Goldwyn-Mayer lion-roar (there’s no big show of fearsome canines); more a weaponized grunt that carries across the Mara grassland and rebounds against my sternum. And then in my skull.

It takes some moments to re-ground, and assure the nervous system we’re not in danger.  We’re sitting in a big safari truck. The lion does not even look at us, nor appear to register our presence.  We pass by slowly. He parades. Our guide tells us he is the senior male of the Marsh Pride, a group of lions made famous on British TV during the 1990s, when wildlife photographer, Jonathan Scott, documented their movements. This lion, we’re told, is calling to the junior male. Meanwhile the pride’s three lionesses are busy devouring the kill, a hartebeast. They don’t see us either.

But still that resonating roar.

Throwing the voice is part of a male lion’s M.O. A spot of leonine ventriloquy if you like. To make themselves sound bigger and deadlier, they may also choose a dried up river bed for some night-time roaring. The dirt bank of a donga provides a  ‘sounding board’ to amplify the roar which may carry for several miles. Obviously the aim is to let other males know exactly what they’re up against should they dare to infringe territorial bounds.

We drive away, feeling somehow changed. Very small perhaps. It’s August 1999, the last of our seven years living in Kenya. When we return to England for good, what will we make of such days? Did they really happen? Sometimes it’s hard to be sure.

marsh pride senior male

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To hear that lion call for yourself, there’s a brief clip here:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1e0_4dwF9A4

Lens-Artists: Sound   Donna at Wind Kisses choses sound for this week’s theme – however you care to interpret it. Please pay her a visit.

The Weather In The Garden

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So far this week at The Gables we’ve had frost, biting wind, and yesterday an all-day deluge with wall to wall gloom. But today, St. Valentine’s, the rain has held off. In fact it’s been almost warm, with a glimmering of sunshine, and up in the top garden this clump of seedling crocus was in full fanfare.

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And not only that,  Mr. Whippy, the ice-cream man, was back in town. Jangling rendition of O Sole Mio up and down streets. And then while I was snapping the crocus, along buzzed a honey bee, the first I’ve seen and heard this year.

Anyone would think it was spring.

But then February can be a tricksy month in England, ambushing us with a day of sudden warmth, only to whip up more icy blasts just when we’ve been daft enough to cast off our thickest winter woolly.

So: best not to count one’s spring chickens too soon.

This bee, though, is definitely seizing the moment, making the most of fine weather, and a rich pollen harvest. (Note the gathering sac on the rear leg; full pollen facial thrown in). What’s not to love.

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Happy Valentine’s Day!

Lens-Artists: Weather This week Anne at Slow Shutter Speed  has us weather watching. Plenty to inspire us in her lively photo essay.

How Did My Garden Glow…

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There’s more than a hint of nostalgia in my choice of photos here. With the turn of the year and the first hints of spring, I am thinking about gardening; and more especially, of gardens left behind and the things I used to grow there.

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The new home garden, though small, has potential as they say, but much like the house, every part of it needs attention. We’ve had the hedges cut into shape and the apple trees  pruned. The greenhouse is all but mended, and the slab for Graham’s shed is laid and ready for his latest creation. But the biggest challenge is reining in the overall infestations of ground elder, ivy, Spanish bluebells and a devilish creeping shrub with red tubular flowers that seems intent on taking over the place.

Basically, when it comes to fresh planting, we’re pretty much at ground zero, with an awful lot of ground to shift. And while it is feasible, with serial determination, to clear areas of the invaders, it will likely take a few seasons to do so. All of which means holding back on plans for any permanent planting, at least on the herbaceous and shrub front. I am resisting using weed killer.

The invaders’ persistence is not such an issue when it comes to making vegetable plots. They can be cleared and weeded every year at the end of the growing season, and again in spring. In fact it has crossed my mind to grow this year’s potatoes in the front garden where we’ve lifted a load of unsightly paving. I’ve also thought of using that space for a mixture of annual flowers, beans and greens, i.e. cottage garden style. I probably will do that. After all, you can grow climbing beans up sunflowers. They like to cohabit. And it seemed to work at the Broseley rental house where I made a quick-fix garden last year.

In the meantime, I’m thinking of starting some perennials off in pots. I know we will miss the allotment raspberries, so I’m trying a small bush variety called Yummy . It will apparently grow well in containers, at least in the short term. I’ve also rescued a few of the previous occupants’ plants from the infested beds, and ‘quarantined’ them in pots too, thus capturing any remnant ground elder which can be carefully unpicked during re-potting or planting out.

But then I’m truly missing our Evereste crab apple tree from the Sheinton Street garden. It’s a very slow grower, so if I do give in to buying a replacement, it might well manage in a big pot for a while.

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So: onwards and upwards. I’ve come to the conclusion it is my lot in life, much like generations of my Hampshire gardener ancestors, to wield a spade, endlessly making new gardens wherever I end up living. You  may expect some of the results to crop  up here. For now, some very pleasing ‘borrowed landscape’ from back in the autumn – the rowan tree over the hedge by the greenhouse. A wonderful birds’ pantry.

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Lens-Artists: warm colours  This week Egidio wants to see warm colours in our photos. Please see his blog post for some wonderful warmth and inspiration.

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