Jack and I are in different cities today so I’ve set the way-back machine to a hot day last summer and here we are together on one of the walking paths up by the lake.
Nightjar is here to share the next chapter of her series.
There is quite a lot of biodiversity on the top but what you see will of course depend on the time of the year you visit. Spring would be more interesting, and we would be looking for wild orchids, wild peonies (Paeonia broteri) and honeysuckles. In November we must content ourselves with the late crocus (Crocus serotinus)…
… and the autumn buttercup (Ranunculus bullatus).
Some plants have berries now, like the wild jasmine (Jasminum fruticans)…
… or the hawthorn (Crataegus monogyna).
And seedcases of the grey-leaved cistus (Cistus albidus) make me want to come back in Spring for their pink flowers with yellow centers.
The next chapter will be the last here and we will just enjoy the views and see the hill we will explore next, on the other side of the village.
I’m away from home for the next few days staying with a friend whose mother just died. The funeral is tomorrow and I likely won’t be home until Friday so for the rest of the week Jack and I will be taking separate walks. That means that Jack’s Walk is a bit of a crap shoot this week. We’ll be here, but who knows what you’ll see. For today, I’ll give you a glimpse at how Jack relaxes after his evening walk. When he was young Jack was always hot, but this winter for the first time the boy has decided he likes blankets and the cozier the better. This is the blanket that Jack got for Christmas and he loves it. He makes a great big fuss trying to cover himself with it in the hope that mommy or daddy will come along and tuck him in properly. This is what properly tucked looks like.
This stately, old tree comes to us from our very own rq and it looks like it’s been guarding that gate for a very long time. Thanks for sharing, rq.
(Just a reminder that our address is in the sidebar and we’d love to see your trees.)
Jack and I went to the lake this morning and it was another day of gloomy skies. Or so I thought. About an hour after we got home it started to clear up and right now the sun is shining about as bright as it can in January. It’s wonderful.
It’s time for Nightjar’s next chapter.
We have reached the top of the East Hill and so has this weevil, which found the perfect place to sunbathe. There aren’t many insects around this time of the year (November), visiting in spring or summer would certainly be better for insect watching purposes.
It’s time for the next Chapter in Nightjar’s series.
Fossil hunting!
I’ve had more luck in other trips, but it’s always easy to find some fossils, especially of ammonites. These are Early Jurassic sediments, laid nearly 200 million years ago. In primary school, I remember participating in a few school trips to this hill. I either imagined or saw a classmate discover a fish fossil, but the rock was too big to carry with us. We went to call the teacher and the rest of the group but when we came back, we couldn’t find the rock we had seen. At least that’s how we told the story afterwards and it still occasionally comes up in get-together dinners. Did that really happen or was it the result of the fertile imagination of a group of 7-year-olds? I’m afraid we’ll never know, but I always remember this story when I visit this place and I’m still secretly searching for that mysterious fish fossil. Sadly, I didn’t find it this time either.
Yesterday’s walk by the river was a little more challenging than I bargained for so today Jack and I chose an easier walk and went to our quiet little path in the forest. This spot is another of my happy places. Ive been coming here for 15 years, initially with our first dog Lucy and then adding Jack to our pack. I know every bend of the path, each tree and stump and if I close my eyes I can walk the entire path in my mind. I know where the trilliums grow and the special spots where the red trilliums hide. I’ve walked this path with only the light of the moon and my every sense was heightened, I know it in each season, the ebb and flow of green, white, yellow, orange and red. I’ve watched young trees grow strong and old trees grow weak and I grieved the year that 18 grandmother trees toppled together from the weight of ice. It’s familiar and a comfort and today it was a welcome break from being a voyageur.
The last bloom of Nightjar’s early winter flowers series and it’s a beauty.
Thanks, Nightjar. It’s been lovely to have so much sunshine and colour at this time of year.
Jack and I put on our voyageur berets this morning and went hunting for beavers in the wetlands of Canada. The morning air was frosty and a constant westerly wind bit at our cheeks as it blew past us. Conditions on the ground were challenging with large muddy areas lightly covered by a wafer thin sheet of snow and ice that easily buckled under the weight of the dog. We picked our way upstream with me slipping and sliding and Jack looking anxiously over his shoulder to make sure I was still upright. We didn’t get too far though when the route became clogged with tangled brush and reeds that ultimately forced us to retrace our steps in retreat. I think we were getting close to the lodge in this area. We found several gnawed trees and a whole patch of gnawed off saplings. At first, I thought the sapling patch would lead straight to the den, but nope. The beavers haven’t set up shop here, but I think they’re close by. Maybe tomorrow we’ll try the other bank of the river to see if we can get farther.
