Belgian Blues...Not Sparking Joy....and Photo Blog Number Four

A rare sight - delivered milk  - outside the gates of a big farm house which I pass on my way up the lane.

My first view of the field - different but the same every day.

The first sloes on blackthorn. Robin and sloes....inevitably linked in my memory. 

I still have the last bottle of sloe gin that he loved making.

The village below me.

It occurs to me that the lovely cows are not a typical British breed.

So I research grey and white spotted cows on Google and 

I think they are called Belgian Blue. 

The owner of the horses must think it's cold enough this morning  to put their coats on.

I think so too. It's the wind that chills me especially on the rise of the hill.

The edges of summer curling up.

I'm trying to get a better photo of this seagull when I hear a rustling in the long grass by the field gate where I'm standing 

and this single sheep appears out of nowhere...

just as surprised to see me.

I look up when I hear this plane ( a speck and a tail of white high up, far away) and notice how the  streaks of cloud are like two hands reaching out to each other...fingers touching in the bowl of blue.

A fungus mushroom growing out of the base of a hazel tree like a stack of side plates waiting fo their bread rolls....

Back home the dahlias are in full bloom ...loved by the bees and this meadow brown butterfly.

For weeks now the birds have been rare visitors in the garden...I hope they are finding lots of natural food elsewhere....

so  this afternoon I was delighted to see this gorgeous long tailed tit

doing whatever she can to peck out the peanuts in the feeder - even if that means turning upside down.

And I'm turning my wardrobe and drawers cupboard inside out....starting the long journey of de-clutteirng all my clothes...using the Marie Kondo method. I have become a total convert - at least of her folding technique which a dear friend already showed me when we were in Portugal recently.

Her other idea is to touch each garment, hold it close and ask yourself 

"Does it spark joy in me? " If not get rid of it.

The tops and coats and fleeces and scarves and jumpers( some of them Robin's) above, folded on the spare bed this afternoon, are all the ones that don't make me light up when I think about putting them on.

I'm shocked and a bit sad to see how the colours are mostly the same and how dull and boring they look laid out like that....and what is worse how few of my clothes I really like...my main criteria being practical and useful or for a special occasion....nothing too wrong with that but I now want to love what I wear however practical it is.

 There is very little left in my wardrobe now and even some things that I don't love but if I get rid of everything all at once I'm not sure what I'm going to wear tomorrow that isn't a party dress or a sarong.

And I haven't started on my shoes yet...

Photo Blog Number Four.

Some random pictures taken in July.

one of the Belgian Blues....

A decaying mushroom...

PS Many thanks B for your lovely comments..l missed you!

Not a Plastic Bag....the Cow's Nose... The Bench/Table and Protecting Wildlife

The cawing crows are constant scavengers in the barley field now it has been cut.

This morning's blue sky is deceptive - it's chilly at the top of the hill...my fingers quickly lose sensation. 

I love these waving grasses that fringe the edge of the field.

I spot this white blob in the trees way, way on the other side of the field. Maybe it's a bird but it stays so still I think it must be a plastic carrier bag caught in the branches. I zoom in to the limit on my camera but

I only get this very blurred image which I think is a buzzard or some kind of bird of prey... it's huge....  and it is making that same ( not owl) kwei kwei call that I heard the other day.

 I long to get closer with the camera and search for a way over the barbed wire fence ..... if only I was a fox or a badger then I could slip under the barrier and slink across the cropped rows of the field....but it's too high and I'm not agile or brave enough to attempt the leap.

But I'm delighted the white shape is not a plastic bag.

The four cows that I usually only hear on the other side of the hedgerow are lying down companionably in their field..

chewing ....snoozing ..

and then one of them gets up and walks  purposefully over to the gate where I'm standing ...

and pushes

her  long nose right over the gate

and lets me stroke the softness of it.

I talk very softly to her and feel her curiosity, her gentleness, her great peacefulness.

Then the other cows come to join her...

and I feel sad to leave them at the gate, watching me through the bars as I head off down the farm track.

I'm concentrating on the horses and don't notice the wind turbines in the far distance till I download the photos later.

This field is next to the one where the three horses live...I stop to wave to them as I usually do and when I turn round 

this pussy cat is watching me from behind a bush on the farm track. I'm glad she's wearing a bell - which hopefully warns any birds in the vicinity of her approach. I'm always heartbroken when I find a grave of feathers scattered on the grass in the garden - evidence of recent bird slaughter which could be by a cat.

A young female black bird runs ahead of me along the path into the village and then ducks into the hedge. Safe from a predator for now.

Bright bunting is still strung across the high street. It was the annual village market and fun day on Saturday. I remember what it was like last year...I felt like the new girl at school having only arrived a few days earlier. This time I walked along the street, stalls set up on both pavements, in the company of a dear friend which was much more fun....and greet some of my neighbours.

 Although I don't need one, I bought a hand made garden bench/table created by craftsmen  from the Men In Sheds Charity. Solid wood from an old kitchen worktop and legs from something else. The two chaps who lugged it up the hill to my house later in the afternoon were sweating....it's too heavy for me to lift on my own. I haven't found the best place for it yet but I will.

When I come home this morning I find this pussy cat( not the same one with the bell on the farm track) installed at the  stream end of the garden  ....I recognise his patient crouch of "I'm waiting for this mouse/slowworm/ shrew/mole/bird to come out of this prickly bush and then I'm going to pounce". Flapjack used to do it all the time.

 I interrupt his vigil and shoo him off...the wild life in my garden is more precious than his hunting instincts.

The apples on my one small tree (infected with a canker) are growing bigger by the day, but still  sharp green, and 

I love it that my surprise poppy is still flowering in papery pink.

 The gift of Somerset cherries from my sister for breakfast before I wend my way into the day....mostly spent at my desk ...paperwork, emails, bill paying making phone calls to garden designer, handyman, chiropodist, fishmonger.

 And remembering the soft feel of the cow's nose under my hand this morning  I order a book on Amazon  'The Secret Life of Cows' by Rosamund Young.