Thursday, 18 September 2014
A Snap Shot Of My Day.
I took the dogs out across the fields first thing this morning and we walked across the golden stubble through silvery ribbons of Autumnal mist. There is a stretch of ancient woodland bordering the fields here and we often stop to have a chat with the venerable old oaks that line up along the boundary like sentries guarding the entrance to some secret, private place.
Or at least I do. Teddy tends to mooch about at my feet peacefully sniffing interesting smells while Pop scampers off into the woods showing scant regard for the nobility of the place, nose-down on the trail of something that's been moving about there during the night.
This morning, she rolled in some fox poo and then set off a deer, whose high bounding leaps across the stubble alerted me to its presence long before Teddy realised what was happening. As soon as he did he shot off as well, although he is not as quick as his little sister who fairly flies over the ground, her legs working faster than they look like they should. After realising that he wouldn't catch up with the deer or Poppy, he gave up and returned to sit quietly beside me.
As we waited together for Pop to return, a small movement in the oak in front of us caught my eye. Just the tiniest of flickers of white against the gnarled brown of the bark. It was a Tree Creeper, that most elusive of woodland birds. It's only the second one I have seen, after the first came to the apple tree in our garden earlier this year. They have very high-pitched voices and so are more often heard than seen. This one was silent, quietly making his or her way up the trunk towards the canopy so I was able to watch it for a good few minutes. I think I heard another one a little later on. It's nice to know they are there.
In due course Poppy returned, gratifyingly knackered after her long deer chase, and flopped down in the cool damp grasses on the woodland's edge with her tongue hanging out of her mouth and her sides heaving. Attempting to exhaust Poppy is the main focus of my days at the moment, because a suitably tired Jack Russel is more preferable on the whole to one who isn't remotely tired: it makes for a more peaceful afternoon for me and T.
We got back home and Poppy submitted to a cold shower in the garden and then promptly rolled in a flower bed so is now earthy rather than pooey, which is an improvement. I hung out the washing and within half an hour thunder rumbled overhead, so I expect we will have rain and the washing will get a second soaking. As I was walking back to the house I heard the baby pigeons murmuring to their mum in the hedge. They are our latest and indeed last babies of the year, who only hatched out a couple of days ago. Their parents are driving the dogs crazy as the nest is beside the house and they are forever flying in and out, but I like being able to peer through the leaves and branches and see mum or dad sitting sedately on their haphazard bundle of collected twigs. This morning I was rewarded with the first glimpse of the children, who looked damp and scraggly, but will blossom into sleek plump silvery-grey creatures over the next month or so. Pigeons are devoted parents who share the raising of their young and remain with them far longer than any other bird. The family group holds beyond the arrival of the next batch of children.
I am now gathering my thoughts towards college, which starts next week, and Christmas, which is looming steadily and for which I have already been into Salisbury this week to make a start on presents. M expressed astonishment at this when I told him last night, but as I pointed out, the only gifts he has to buy are mine so he can afford to leave it till Christmas Eve, whereas I do his, L's, F's, J's, all the cousins, the aunts and uncles, the great aunts and uncles, and the grannies and grandpas, not to mention all the furry members of the family, and that takes not only time but planning. I enjoy it, as long as I'm not rushing and have left myself plenty of time. I am also rather pleased with my Christmas thoughts this year. I am being inventive.
I felt the need for a little peace while I was shopping, so detoured to the Cathedral which sits in the centre of a large green lined with beautiful old houses and buildings. There were lots of school children and tourists there but even so the sense of quiet, of peace and of tranquility emanating from the building was tangible: it reaches out and snuggles around you as you walk near it.
The Magna Carta is housed inside the Chapter House. Of the four remaining copies of this historic document, which was the first to enshrine in law the rights and privileges of nobles and churchmen and limit the power of the Crown, Salisbury's is said to be the finest. Next year marks the 800th anniversary of it's signing at Runnymede by King John and doubtless there will be various events running in the town to celebrate it.
I have a hair appointment at lunch time. I told M I was going to have it dyed pink and cut into spikes. He looked slightly wary of taking this as a joke, largely because last Christmas I dyed my hair purple as entertainment for the children, little realising that when a packet promises that the colour will 'wash out after four rinses' it means only if the rinses are spaced apart with a month between each one.
And now it is raining, although Poppy is gratifyingly fast asleep curled in a ball on her bed beside Ted....
Wishing you all a good day,