Son the Younger lives in Lyde Green, in the north-east of Bristol. The houses, shops, Science Park, etc were all built in the 2010s, so everything's very new, but just opposite his home is a country lane leadng to Lyde Green Common that still manages to look quite rural, so recently we went for a wander to see what we could see.
Marsh Marigolds
Speckled wood
Greater Stitchwort
Bush vetch
There are some quite impressive trees in the woods around the edge of the common ...
... and some out in the open.
Thrush (top) and blackbird eggshells
Lyde Green Farm, now divided into housing units
It was a surprisingly peaceful walk, given we were right next to the M4, but then it was the Thursday before the Easter holiday and the motorway was more of a car park. This is where the path called The Dramway - a 19th century tramway that carried coal from Coalpit Heath and the other mines locally down to the River Avon - runs underneath it.
Talking of which, here's Parkfield Colliery North Chimney. Because they closed a lot earlier than those that survived into the 1980s - in this instance, in 1936 - it's easy to forget just how many collieries there were in the Bristol coalfield.
Buff-tailed bumble bee
Despite the leafing trees and occasional butterfly, it was still very muddy, with a hint of lingering winter, at Lyde Green. Yesterday's walk, eight days later, at Badock's Wood was much more springlike.
on the round barrow
The first whitethorn blossom of the year is always a bit of a thrill. If there was a toy called 'My First Whitethorn' I'd play with it every day, and buy it for all the children I know.
Very yellow cowslips (and celandines)
Building Cwtch's confidence in the water is fast turning into a magical experience. What's more, she's getting very brave.
River Trym
Grey wagtail
Horse Chestnuts lighting their candles
Badock's is a garlic wood rather than a bluebell wood, and I reckon it'll be another week to ten days before the garlic flowers reach constellation-status. Meanwhile, most of the bluebells here seem to be of the Spanish variety or hybrids. Leaving worries about the dilution of the bluebell gene pool to one side, there are still lots of woods around locally to get a fix of Hyacinthoides non-scripta, which we'll be doing very soon.
There were ravens up in the tree-tops in the middle of the wood, so I sat on the bench for a bit to listen to them. This spot always makes me feel melancholy, and it was my late mother's birthday to boot, but how can you feel sad for long with Her Cwtchness around, and spring well and truly doing its thing?
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