Stormy skies and sunsets and tadpoles

Only a week till the golfers return, so we've been walking mostly over the golf course, making the most of the magnificent old trees, whose company we'll miss when they're out of bounds again. 

Oh noooo, don't go! 

We did, however, go for a walk elsewhere, namely Splatts Abbey Wood, which is over the back of the local Asda and handy when you're doing a shop (though probably best not to buy ice cream if you're going there afterwards). Splatts Abbey Wood is a Place of My Childhood - more about that here. 

First, though, incredibly fiery shoots from the pollarded trees on the far side of the A4174 ... 

...which remind me of Sylvia Plath's poem, 'Elm': 

'I have suffered the strocity of sunsets.

Scorched to the root

My redfilaments burn and stand, a hand of wires.'

And who lives in a house like this? 

Even Splatts Abbey Wood, tiny and tucked away between the MOD complex and the Hewlett Packard campus, appears to have been visited rather more heavily than usual during lockdown, as the ground was pretty trampled. It will come into its own in a few weeks, when the bluebells come out, but for now there are the surprisingly tall trees to admire and a feeling of space that belies its dimensions. 

Up on the golf course, the weather's been mostly springlike, with lots of signs that winter is nearly over.

Willow coming into leaf

Pussy willow

Hawthorn coming into leaf

Tadpoles!

Celandines

White dog violets

Early flowering cherry

The weather often plays a part in the enjoyment we get from our walks. The skies are endlessly changing, and one day we were up there with the sun breaking through heavy cloud. I don't think I've ever seen such curious, gorgeous light.

Other days it's been stormy and sunny at the same time ... 

... and there's also been a few days of mackerel cloud, which is one of my favourite sorts. 

The award for the birds most in evidence (visually) are the green woodpeckers, which have made several (fleeting) appearances, not that I've managed to take a single photo of them, the buggers. The award for the birds most in evidence (aurally) goes to the rooks and jackdaws, who are most vociferous on the subject of nests and where in the rookery to build them - although rather than interspecies punch-ups, they seem to fall out between themselves. 

Also, goldfinches. A charm of goldfinches in the lane. 

Also, a noticing of trees ... 

Poplar bark, embroidered and draped like fabric

Mistletoe

Catching a patch of blue sky

... and the views from various parts of the ridge. Every time we look, I see more and more that is familiar but that I didn't spot sooner. 

Two former family homes and a photobombing ... jay? 

The new Severn bridge

The old Severn bridge

And sunsets! Even though currently we have to miss Pointless to see them.

And sunsets in the hollowing oak in the meadow. With a following wind, a whole spring-, summer- and autumn-ful to come.

TED Walks in the time of Coronavirus Pt 5

We marked May Day with a return walk to Splatts Abbey Wood. The Beltane celebrations were especially disrupted this year. The Government had hijacked the Monday bank holiday to turn it into a VE celebration, rather than give the livestock an extra day off. And Bristol's Jack in the Green celebration was cancelled because of the virus situation. (Which is, of course, what they should have happened with the VE Day parties too, but didn't. Hopefully there won't be a spike in Covid-19 cases in a couple of weeks' time.) 

No one had told nature it was all off, though. The bluebells might have all but finished, but the red campion was beginning to bloom ...

... as was this dog rose ... 

... and there was a path of may blossom petals to lead us into the lovely leafy depths.

We went a slightly different route this time and saw some wonderful trees, like this coppiced ash ... 

... and this ivy-covered oak, which was adamant that there was going to be a green man this year, after all. 

On the way back we passed the most recent farmhouse pertaining to Stanley Farm, which dates back to the 13th century. This beautiful building was built in 1860 in the Gothic Revival style by W E Godwin when the farm was amalgamated into a model farm complex with Wallscourt Farm. It now belongs to the MOD, hence the fencing. 

The remainder of the more recent TED Walks have taken us over the golf course, and on and around the golf course while play is suspended, and over the meadow at the back and through the wood to Charlton Common. With a lot of sunsets. 

It sounds as if there are ravens nesting in the magnificent ash tree in the gully at the eastern end of the course.

Whitethorn at its height.

Ted doesn't really understand the monkeys' compulsion to watch the sun set, night after night. 

He also doesn't like it when the female monkey lags behind taking photos. 

One evening it looked as if the buttercups were poised to take over from the lady's smock and the cowslips ... 

... only for the meadow to be covered in pignut a couple of days later.

But mostly it's been trees ... 

The perfect little oak

Another mad ash

The tree straight off a Clarice Cliff plate

The beautiful witchy whitethorn, tree number 2936,  that even Ted knows not to pee on

And skies ...

And above all, sunsets ...

The universe loves us

It's been idyllic.

We've even had a sun pillar. 

Though about a week back, white lines appeared on the grass marking the public rights of way over the course. It made us wonder if the golf club knew something we didn't. And sure enough a couple of days ago an announcement appeared on the club's Facebook page: 'Boris says we can play!!!' As if 'Boris' was their personal mate, rather than the incompetent that has overseen the wiping out of the VE generation. 

We said goodbye to all the trees on the fairway, and let Ted have a last paddle in the small pond. 

It's been fantastic, but it was only ever Fairyland.