Beech tree and blue sky - the calm between the storms

A sea of mist - the view from the hill this morning

Sheep in the landscape

Keeping their distance from Dog:

Sheltering in the gullies from former tin-mining on Dartmoor:

Keeping each other warm:

Resting under an old oak tree:

If I were a poet

As Frog and I perused the latest literature from the Devon Wildlife Trust the other evening, Frog pointed out that, while DWT has 48 natures reserves, none of them is in our part of the county. We live, I suppose, in an intensively farmed area and so I have to find wild nature where I can – in an ancient oak tree, an untamed bit of hedge, a corner of a field that has escaped the plough. Maybe that is why these days I find my eyes being constantly drawn upwards. The sky is still more or less as God intended it to be.

If I were a poet I would write about the sky, and if I were an artist I would paint it. As I’m neither, I have to make do with photographs. And here are two I took this morning.

More happy birds

EIGHT blackbirds on the fallen Bramleys this morning. Word is getting out. I wish I could find a way to take a photograph without scaring them all away.

Happy birds

In the previous but one post I mentioned leaving apples unpicked so that the birds can enjoy them. Well, the blackbirds are now feasting on the fallen Bramleys - I counted six at one time on Sunday - and numerous other birds flitting backwards and forwards. If I can get close enough I’ll take a photograph.

Sky

I am obsessed with the sky at the moment. Here are two pictures I took this afternoon while walking with the dog.

Spot the dog

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Bramleys

Bramleys are wonderful trees. They produce vast quantities of apples with little – or in our case, no – attention. Sadly, our beloved Bramley blew over in the storm a couple of weeks ago (possibly due to lack of attention . . .).

 

Nevertheless, it is still alive, and now there is a whole new batch of apples that I can reach.

However, I don’t need any more Bramleys. I’ve given away two boxes and I have a utility room full of buckets of them. We eat them every night – as either apple crumble or apple cake – and yesterday I made some chutney.

I think I shall leave the rest of the apples for the birds, as my brother-in-law Peter does. We stayed with him in October a few years ago and his Bramley tree was smothered in blackbirds. It was glorious.

Here is our Bramley in better days (May 2010).

We're wondering whether to prune all the trees around the Bramley (which caused it to develop too much on one side) and then haul it back up somehow. But I'm such a wuss about pruning (and weeding, and destructive-type gardening in general, as you may have gathered).

Storm damage

One of the many casualties of the storm last week. I'm glad I wasn't underneath when this branch fell. The poor tree looks very lopsided now.

Holly

Holly berries looking glorious in the sunshine on Sunday morning. I wonder if they've survived the storm.

There are a lot around this year - the result of the good summer, I would say, not the sign of a hard winter to come as others claim.

They never last till Christmas though, do they. I suppose the birds eat them. (And good luck to them.)

Ivy

Ivy flowers this morning

Ivy is not a popular plant, at least not with those who favour tidy gardens (unlike me). Wildlife however loves it. Being evergreen, it provides shelter for birds in the winter, and they nest in its dense foliage. It flowers now, providing nectar for insects when there aren’t many other blossoms around, and fruits in late winter providing food for birds when there's nothing else.

The flowers smell rather sickly but they are always buzzing. My wildflower book says it is pollinated by wasps and flies although Nina (‘The Owl and the Pussycat’) says bees love it too. I shall have a good look next time I pass.

The fruit are a striking pale yellow and gladden human hearts at a bleak time of year.

Ivy fruit, seen in February