Photo Challenge

Roots Of The Matter ~ As In Too Much Burgeoning

I may have mentioned once or several times that we’ve inherited a garden full of promiscuous weedy invaders. Top of the list is ground elder, closely followed by Spanish bluebells, but topping the top is Phygelius (kindly identified by Jude who described it as a thug that had to be dug up and contained in a pot). It is a semi-evergreen shrubby entity from South Africa, also known as Cape Figwort and Cape Fuchsia. And yes, it does look pretty when it’s cascading in bright red tubular flowers.

But just see where its roots are off to. These are growing under and in what was lawn.They extend at least two metres from the mother plant at the top of the garden. And the thing you most need to know about this vigorous pesky plant is that the smallest broken fragment of root has the capacity to make a new plant and root system in the blink of an eye.

The ground in the photo had been covered by a sheet of black plastic for around three months. This killed the grass, but only encouraged the Phygelius to sprout potential plants at regular intervals along the length of its root system. The good news is I can now see it and so unravel it (carefully) with a fork, and also extract any intertwining ground elder.

A tedious job, but then I do have company.

This male blackbird spent all of Monday with me, scoffing worms and growing ever bolder. By the time I’m done, he will be one very fat bird, because the garden is also blessed with masses of worms.

And then this week there was another happy find, this time under a fallen roof slate…

…one large toad. What a gift. Perhaps he/she is the reason why I’ve seen so few slugs. (So far anyway).

And finally, a pleasing plant discovery, rescued from behind the compost bin where it was being nibbled by snails:

Cranesbill: Geranium Phaeum ‘Album’

And so the garden moves forward – renewed, reconstructed and (in several quarters), burgeoning.

#SquaresRenew Becky’s May photo squares each day feature moving forward, reconstruction, renewal and burgeoning. Still time to join in.

Leading You Up The Garden Path

Each day For the month of May Becky is hosting a square format photo featuring one or more of the following themes: move forward, burgeoning, reconstruct, renew. And so here, on all those fronts, is the kitchen-window-to-be with a view on another ‘work in progress’ – the garden. The hawthorn tree over the hedge is doing the burgeoning.

The house extension has been forging ahead too, and while super-builder Alan has been putting up the inner timber frame, I have been digging up the lawn. I started doing this last summer, soon after we’d moved into The Gables, but got no further than two beds along the garden path. Even so, they are already looking promising, bursting with spinach, Swiss chard, coriander, various kales and cauliflowers. (Everything has to be netted against pigeon plunder).

But then came the wet and frigid winter, and so the digging mostly had to stop until March.

Our garden ends at the fence behind the greenhouse, and I’m now expanding an existing narrow bed along the entire fence-line. First on my list has been rooting out the ground elder and phygelius seedlings, followed by making a well composted trench for runner and butter beans. The trench is done and the bean row will run parallel to the greenhouse, but with space enough for some outdoor tomatoes beside the greenhouse.

Against the back fence are a few field bean plants (mini broad beans), now busy flowering, and next to them is a small plot of sprouting broccoli and green Romanesco cauliflowers for late summer cropping.

It’s a pity everything has to be netted, but the pigeons are remorseless foragers, including testing things they don’t really like and leaving lots of shredded leaves – the rotters.

Meanwhile the kitchen is looking like this:

A brick-skin with parapet is next on the agenda. There will then be double doors filling the open space, and a roof lantern illuminating the cooking department. The further half of the back house wall will then be knocked through to the main sitting room to create an open L-shaped living space on a roughly east-west axis.

But for now it’s all blue-sky thinking, and not least some serious musings on how the new roof lantern will affect the interior light. Hmmm:

#SquaresRenew

Teeming Green Above Ludlow’s River Teme

The Green Cafe below Ludlow Castle

Ludlow is one of Shropshire’s loveliest old market towns, the earliest surviving remains (including parts of the castle) dating from the early Norman period in the 11th century. It’s also one of our favourite places, about 20 miles from Bishops Castle, but we had not visited for ages. And so a couple of weeks ago, when spring was teasing us with the notion that sunny days had returned, we thought it was about time for an outing. A significant lure included thoughts of lunch at The Green Cafe.

This award-winning little restaurant sits on the riverbank, between Dinham Weir and Dinham Bridge. Ever popular, it has an outdoor terrace, and an inside (compact) dining room. But wherever you choose to sit, you are guaranteed a warm welcome, including with added blankets if it’s cold outside and there are no seats free inside.

The menu is always inventive, dishes coming in large or small versions, and with emphasis on fresh, locally produced ingredients. The cakes and deserts are fabulous, although this time we had no room for them. We’d filled up on smoked salmon with pickles, labneh and mustard yoghurt, plus a dish of roasted tiny new potatoes with aioli sauce. All very delicious. After that, there was nothing left to do, but to wander over Dinham Bridge, look at the views, see spring happening and watch the river flow by.

Going with the flow

#SquaresRenew Every day in May Becky is hosting a square format header photo. The themes are move forward, reconstruct, renew, burgeoning.

Seeing Things In A New Light

Hurrah for May and Becky B’s month of squares. The themes are burgeoning, move forward, reconstruct, renew to interpret how we will. The only rule: the header photo must be SQUARE.

This photo is a view of very familiar terrain as seen from the upstairs windows of our cottage in Much Wenlock. It was a piece of landscape we looked at every day for sixteen years. What wasn’t familiar was this glorious copper light and that cloud come visiting from a Baroque masterwork.

It was early spring, the sun already up at 5 a.m. a time I rarely saw. And now here was the field, usually so plain in the flatness of main-day light, quite transformed. It felt like a parallel universe. So, I thought, this is what Townsend Meadow gets up to when we’re not looking, showing itself off in this magically theatrical glow. What have we been missing?

I never saw anything like it there again, although there were many other light and cloud shows over the years, usually at sunset. But it made me think. Sometimes it pays to break a habit. And if that unexpected view changed the way I saw the meadow, what other bigger shifts may be possible?

#SquaresRenew burgeoning, move forward, reconstruct, renew

‘I hear you singing in the wire…’

This week Egidio at Through Brazilian Eyes sets us a particularly novel challenge. He asks us to consider how our photographs might chime with particular pieces of music: perhaps something we were listening to when we took a photo, or a scene that evokes a favourite song or melody. Go to his blog post for more insights and some fine photography.

As for my musical photos here, I’ve always been fascinated by power lines. The scale and steeliness of pylons; the way they hold dominion, stride out across the landscape. There’s a sense of isolation; alienation; our physical inconsequence against these giant spawn of human ingenuity. And so perhaps for some of these reasons, whenever I hear Wichita Lineman (Glen Campbell version of course) with its tones of longing, loneliness and big, big vistas, it never fails to resonate through my psyche. And I don’t even much like country music. But there you are: one of those conscious-subconscious mysteries.

Glen Campbell singing Jimmy Webb’s Wichita Lineman

Lens-Artists: Music to my eyes

In A State Of Abstraction

If this header photo makes you feel shivery, then that’s how it feels today in Shropshire (21 April ‘24). We don’t have ice, outside or on the windows. And the only snow we’ve had

was back in March, and nothing like the winter white-out we had a few years ago (second photo).

But today the air, beneath a bank of sullen cloud, has a razor’s edge. When, at midday, I went to check on things in the greenhouse, I was glad I’d put on a second woolly jumper. And even that wasn’t warmth enough; still the cold crept into my bones.

What is going on? We’re three parts through April, yet the soil is cold. I keep putting off planting the seed potatoes; leaving them chitting on the potting bench. Soon they’ll be more chit than spud.

And yet, when the sun does shine, as it did yesterday, you could almost believe it was spring. (This should tell us something elemental about what warms the earth. The presence of SUNSHINE). The tulips are certainly saying spring; and the mass of wild flowers on the lane verges say so too: the star-like stitchwort, cowslips, primroses, Jack by the Hedge, the gaudy hoards of dandelions…

And the trees are bursting into leaf, the first flush of greens tinted bronze and pinky-purple and pale gold:

And then the farm hedges are white with blackthorn, and the farm fields bright acid yellow with oil seed rape flowers:

And in the garden the lilac buds are forming and the apple blossom full-on:

Meanwhile on the house renovation front, we are very glad, (what with the persisting coldness) that the roof is now restored:

and that we’re almost done with the conservatory demolition. This is the floor:

And that our hero builder has cleaned off and saved over three hundred bricks from the dismantling to use on the extended exterior.

For now they’re stacked on the garden wall, making their own installation:

With all that’s going on, I’m also thinking that a state of abstraction is good place to be just now. So many thanks to Ritva at Lens-Artists for this interesting approach.

Lens-Artists: Abstracts This week Ritva gives us abstracts. Go see her post and be inspired.

Window Shopping: Looking In, Looking Out?

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.

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.

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.

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

But back to the mysterious header photo;

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:

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

The Weather In The Garden

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.

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.

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…

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.

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.

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.

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.

Simply Does It

Wild oats and a summer storm brewing: I liked the muted tones in contrasting textures.

These convolvulus flowers seemed to light up a shady corner:

The barley field: shades of green with front row sgraffitto effect:

Ladybird sheltering in a sage leaf – what’s not to love?

And finally – three photos taken at Penmon Point on the island of Anglesey. In descending order: view of Puffin Island; looking across Menai Strait to the Welsh mainland; boy looks at lighthouse.

Lens-Artists: Simplicity This week Philo at Philosophy Through Photography sets the theme. Please go and see his inspiring examples.

Tish Farrell

Writer on the Edge