Skip to main content

The last day of June

A few days ago I spied a field splashed with red, and yesterday I went to look more closely.  

Looking north, across the Firth of Forth to a hazy Kingdom of Fife, the field runs alongside the main London - Edinburgh railway line, and as I took my photos a coloured co-ordinated, poppy red Virgin train passed by.
I have a new favourite walk, around another huge and glorious field.  In past times I think it was probably two very big fields with a lovely hedge dividing them, but sadly that hedge has now gone and it has been merged into one gigantic field, with a track carved through the middle.

At the moment one half of the field is growing corn, still a glaucous blue and ripening.  The other half is barley, rippling and velvety to the eye.
Storm Hector left a lasting impression when he tore across the countryside a couple of weeks ago.
The views all round are magnificent.  As I stand and listen to the wind through the grasses, the sky lark above and the occasional buzzy bee, it is hard to believe that Edinburgh city centre is only twelve miles away to the west, and just visible in the blue distance.  I would rather be standing here than on Princes Street!
All along the eastern fringe of the field there is a delicious tangle of wild rose, meadow vetchling and blackberry.  I also found some goat's beard, which has my favourite seedhead.
On the eastern edge there is also a large and peaceful pond, which currently has a family of coots, with three chicks paddling furiously behind their parents, in and out of the rushes.


Popular posts from this blog

Coastal walk from Gullane to North Berwick

By the time I have walked about four miles, my toes are screaming at me - it's the arthritis, you see.  One of the joys of being that little bit older than I was.  However, for a long time, I have been keen to walk along the beaches, and follow the coastal path, between Gullane and North Berwick. So, having worked out the tide times, I decided today was the day, and off we went.
Below is our starting point, the bay at Gullane.  It's a lovely beach, very popular with dog walkers. This is looking east, the direction Tilly and I were going to take.
Looking back, up the Forth, the unmistakable bulk of Arthur's Seat, and Edinburgh's skyline, just clear enough to see.
For most of the walk, there is the choice between wandering along a series of beaches, or following a path along the top of each.
There's no denying it, at heart I am a shell-seeker.  I have loads of shells at home.  We lived on one of the out islands in the Bahamas for a just over a year, a long time ago, and …

A vase on Bonfire Night Monday

I have another vase of wild flowers this week.  It wasn't my intention, but as I was out walking the dogs on Sunday afternoon I passed billowing masses of a delicate pink cruciferae (which I can't find a specific name for) growing next to a pile of logs.
Growing alongside were two or three plants of golden yellow corn sow-thistle.  It was a beautiful sight, and there was my vase!  The cruciferae, which has a flower just like rocket, also has the most fabulous seed pod.  It is positively exotic and reminds me of Aladdin's shoes, with very long pointy toes. The lovely sunny face in the photo below is a good old dandelion.  I love dandelions.  I love their rich yellow flowers and the complex and beautiful seed head.  Who hasn't blown a dandelion dock to find out what time it is?  And you can eat the leaves in a salad!

Long gone garden

Ihad about 23,000 photos on iPhoto, which, not surprisingly, has been slowing my MacBook down!  Over the past weeks, I have been having a massive cull and in the process siphoned off favourite photographs, and also I have been on a trip down memory lane.  There is one group of photos I am compelled to post here because for me they form a glorious record of my long gone and much lamented garden, at our previous house.  I have a tiny garden now, which I am enjoying, but in our last garden there was room for lots of joy.   

Regrettably, where there were tulips and fritillaries in the long grass, there is now hardstanding for cars, and I heard yesterday that my beloved lavender hedge has now been taken out, which is the final nail in the coffin of a place bees once loved to visit.  I am not sure that a static row of box balls is going to quite cut it with the pollinators.  I used to count up to one hundred bees, of various types, along the spires of lavender when it was in bloom.