Natural World

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Sunflower season

Golden Sunflowers

Yearning for enlightenment

Turn to face the sky

The sunflowers have been washed out this year in some parts of the Cotswolds due to the dreadful wet summer.  At Snowshill most of the young plants died as their roots rotted in the rain=soaked earth.  But there are still some sunflowers around and I delight in them.  The ones in my garden have just come into bloom and they are magnificent.

In Cheltenham ladies College there is a beautiful stained glass window depicting sunflowers ~ in Victorian times they were considered a symbol of faith in God as the sunflowers appear to be turning their heads to face Him.

I painted sunflowers on my summerhouse doors as for me they signify the arrival of Autumn, my favourite season.

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Getting to know Dayna

My little Dachsund, Dayna, is settling in quite well after a few minor hiccups!  As soon as I picked her up from her previous home last Thursday, I popped into the Pets At Home Store.  There I rashly bought 3 very large bags of a good quality dog food, one chicken, one beef and one vegetable variety, which she flatly refuses to eat.  I also bought a canvas cage for her to sleep in ~ which she absolutely refuses to get into.  I bought a lovely red extending lead to match her very sparkly red collar, which she chewed through during her first walk.

My wonderful dog-loving daughter in Vermont had sent me 3 books packed full of guidance on training your dog:

How to Raise the Perfect Dog by Cesar Millan

How to be your dogs Best Friend by The Monks of New Skete

Dog Stories ~ Everyman Pocket Classics.

I found these books insightful and very helpful, but obviously Dayna has previously read one called How to Get your Owner to Do Whatever You Want, so she wins hands down.  One week and three leads later we have got to know each other a little better and Dayna has got me trained.

Dayna loves pouches of lamb and rice with vegetables or tins of expensive dog food ~ not dry food ~ 3 large bags of which will now be donated to the local animal rescue centre.

Dayna will walk for miles very happily with a short chain metal lead.  She has no interest in being on a long extension but prefers to be within a couple of inches of my feet ~ preferably between them so I am in danger of tripping.

Dayna has no intention of ever sleeping in a cage, however sofly padded or confortably den-like, whatever the Monks of New Skete say!  She prefers to sleep within licking distance of my foot in a soft bed with a fluffy cushion.

Today has been wonderful for both of us.  She has been with me for every minute.  First, we went back to the Pets at Home store and bought a supply of the food Dayna loves;  We drove to Pershore for the Plum Festival and sat outside a cafe in the sun; We took Gerry to the dialysis centre and went for a walk; We cut all the Lavender bushes and bundled up the fabulous smelling lavender to hang up and dry, then went for another long walk;  Lastly we drove back to the dialysis centre, where Dayna scrutinised every man who came out as she waited for the one she has designated the ‘leader of our pack’.

How can something so tiny have so much control?  I don’t know but she gives me everything I wanted from a dog:

Loyalty, trust, companionship, healthy walks, fun, and bucket-loads of love.  I think she is worth her weight in gold.

 

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Bus stop Brenda

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I woke up very early one morning to the sound of a pickaxe pounding the pavement opposite my house.   Being naturally curious as well as a member of the Neighbourhood Watch scheme I got up to see what was going on.  And there they were, two men, one ‘little’ and one ‘large’, digging holes in the pavement right opposite my front window!  On the back of their white flatbed truck they had an assortment of tools and what looked suspiciously like a bus shelter.  Since no-one had contacted us to inform us that this might be happening I rushed out in my pyjamas to find out what authority they had for the work.  They told me that we should have been contacted, but their orders were to put up a bus shelter right there.

Now as you can just see from the photo my house is right opposite a lovely park with a stream and a small wood which is a delight throughout the year.  I simply could not allow an ugly bus shelter to block my view.  Yes I am a NIMBY!

‘Large’, who clearly underestimated the power of a woman in pyjamas,  said there was nothing I could do about it as they had their orders.  I said well you can’t carry your orders out if I am sitting in the hole, which I promptly did ~ yes …. in my pyjamas.  At this point ‘little’ got into the van to have a smoke and ‘large’ very gallantly offered me his fluorescent yellow jacket as it was starting to rain.

Knowing me well and realising I would not be backing down any time soon my long suffering husband brought me out a cup of tea and a telephone to ring the council.  Pah!  The same council who had not even bothered to inform, never mind consult, the residents, I would not be wasting my time phoning them – anyway it was far too early.  I would phone my MP direct.  Fortunately I had his number as this is not the first protest I have been involved in.  Poor ‘large’ was completely thrown when my call was put straight through to the MP’s mobile as he was at the House …. of Commons that is!

By now ‘little’ had started to get edgy and asked how long I was planning on sitting in the hole.  I informed him that I could stay there as long as it took to get the decision reversed, so he called his boss.  At this point passers by on their way to work had started to notice and one even took photos.  I began to realise I was causing a bit of a stir – and so did ‘little’ and ‘large’.  They reported this to their boss along with the fact that I was on the phone to my MP.  ‘The Boss’ immediately ordered them to fill in the hole and abandon the site.

Quite bewildered but in very good humour the two men did as told and tarmacked over the holes.  They never did come back and to this day there is no bus stop opposite the house, just beautiful views.

As a postscript to this I will just say that the next day I was taking my elderly mother to the cemetery to put flowers on dad’s grave when we passed the local newsagents.  Mum looked at the display of newspapers in the window and said – “you’re in the papers!”  To my horror on the front page was the not very fetching photo of me sitting in a hole wearing my pj’s and a yellow fluorescent jacket!

The world and his brother have seen it and that is how I came to be known as “bus stop brenda”.

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Crocodile Water Spout

I mentioned the crocodile water spout in my last blog but forgot to attach my photos so they are below.  I love the fact that a respected cotswold stone builder from the nearby village of Hazleton built this feature in the 19th Century.  Presumably some local landowner paid for it.  The spring water has been gushing out of the crocodile’s mouth ever since.  Some days, like yesterday, after lots of heavy rain, it is a truly spectacular sight.

Yesterday, as I took photos of the crocodile from every angle, a  young boy was walking with his father to St Oswald’s Church, which is set on the hill right above the crocodile.  He is clearly used to jumping the stream to save walking all the way along the road.  I don’t know whether it was his desire to show off or his amazement at seeing a ‘mature’ lady photographing water coming out of a spring, but whatever distracted him he landed right in the fast flowing water.  I had to smile as he walked up the hill to church with soaking wet shoes and very soggy trouser bottoms!

I wish I could capture the sound of the pure rushing water for you but my photos will have to do.  I marvel at the fact that nature produces a constant supply of fresh water for us here.  Would that other parts of the world were so lucky.

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Summer Sunday

Sweet the skylark’s song,

Over fields of lavender,

Where tireless swifts soar.

The sun shone today for the first time in ages so I went off up the hills above Broadway to Snowshill and the Cotswold Lavender Farm.  The wonderful aroma of lavender fills the air here, it is a heavenly place.   I could hear a skylark singing his heart out although I could not see him.  But the sky was filled with the swifts; ceaselessly hungry they swoop and soar for flies.  They had to share the sky with a bi-plane which was looping the loop and doing wonderful aerobatic tricks, leaving smoke trails between the clouds.

On the way home I was brought to a halt so many times in farm gateways by the beauty of the Cotswolds.  I was mesmerised by a sloping field full of hares!  I have rarely seen hares in the wild but today there were whole groups of them feeding happily in full view and occasionally jumping for joy.  It was a privilege to watch them and take photos.

I meandered through Compton Abdale so that I could see the ‘crocodile’.  This is a very old stone carved to look like a crocodile which covers a natural spring so the water gushes out of its mouth.  It looked strange today dressed for the jubilee with a flower crown on its head!  There is a tradition of well dressing in England which apparently stretches to springs too!

I could not resist taking a photo of a typical Cotswold stone house complete with roses by the door and wisteria round the gate.

I will post my photos below for you to enjoy.

Field of Rapeseed
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Field of Rapeseed

Rapeseed 18

For those of you who enjoyed the photos of the poppy fields in the Cotswolds I thought I would post a photo I took last month of a Rapeseed field.  There is something new every month in the Cotswolds.  Before the rapeseed there was blossom everywhere from the fruit trees and before that there were the magnolias, snowdrops and daffodils.  Maybe I should do a month by month pictorial journal of Cotswold Flora with a side order of lovely buildings and scenery!  So let’s start with January when we get Hellebores quickly followed by snowdrops, crocuses and aconites.  I took this photo of  wild snowdrops in the woods ………

In February I spotted daffodils at Lindors Country House which is a retreat centre and hotel in the Forest of Dean and at Prinknash Abbey which is my favourite place in the whole world …….

In March  the weather was good and the Magnolias were out early…….

In April the fruit trees were covered in blossom.  The apple blossom is in my garden where I have 2 apple trees and 2 pear trees, 1 quince tree and a cherry tree so I get a good variey of blossom! ………

  In May the rapeseed fields brightened up the fields high up in the Cotswolds………..

Of course the most beautiful time in the Cotswolds is lambing time.  Here are some very happy sheep at hailes Abbey …..

 

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Poppy time in the Cotswolds

Cotswold Countryside,

Golden harvest, honeyed stone

Punctured by poppies

It is hard to  describe the beauty of the Cotswolds in June or the joy I feel when I suddenly come across stray poppies in the hedgerow, clusters by the roadside or profusions swamping a field of corn.   But a picture paints a thousand words so enjoy my photos!

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Finding the still point

Cast off by the sea,

Sandstone, beauty concealing,

Pure quartz lies entombed.

Just back from a holiday on the Jurassic coast of Dorset (www.jurassiccoast.com), I am reflecting on how much I enjoyed the break.  Being by the sea in lovely weather is such a joy,  and May in Dorset is especially magical.  The rhododendrons, azaleas and camellias are in full bloom; the young swans are hatching in their hundreds at Abbotsbury Swannery, and the national collection of water lilies at Chickerell is breathtakingly beautiful.

We stay in the simplest of log cabins in an area of total peace and quiet with awesome views.  It certainly raises the spirits and clears the mind when you have no network coverage on your phone, no TV, no internet and no computer to distract you!  I planned to do lots of writing but I didn’t.  Instead I read Thomas Hardy’s poetry, and, taking inspiration from the natural world around me, I did lots of drawings and zentangles – yoga for the brain!

Going on holiday gives us opportunities to open our hearts and minds to wonder and beauty.  We have time to notice the lamb sleeping by his mother; the blue tit helping itself to the crumbs from your picnic; the poppies growing by the roadside and the cygnet trying in vain to hide under the mother’s wing.

I realise that these small beautiful moments are happening all around me all the time, the difference is I take notice when I am on holiday.

“Two men looked out through prison bars,

One saw mud and the other saw stars”

I don’t know where or when I first found this quote, but it is so relevant.  Life is not on anyone’s side ~ it just goes on ~ and we make of it what we will.  Whatever happens to us we have choices about how we feel and what we focus on ~ is it the mud or the stars?

The Haiku is about a very ordinary stone I found on Chesil Beach.  It is a type of sandstone, roughly shaped by the sea over millennia.  But on turning it over I saw a deep hole, like a cave in the stone, filled with quartz crystals.  The beauty of it seemed to reveal the sacred hidden in a most unexpected place.

When I worked for a time at Prinknash Abbey I used to share the chores with a wonderful old monk.  He was always so happy, building up the fire, sweeping the floor, even scrubbing out enormous pots and pans.  His philosophy was to treat every task as a gift to God, not a sacrifice.  He fully immersed himself in each task, doing it with reverence and radiating peace and stillness.  I suppose today we would call this “mindfulness”, I called it the sacrament of the moment and I try hard to follow his example.

On holiday in Dorset I think I succeeded in seeing the good in everything I did as my photos below will show.  I hope you enjoy them.

Lovers for life
Thomas hardy’s house in Dorset
Sunset on Chesil Beach
Water Lily
Bleeding Heart Flowers
Footprints on Chesil Beach
Abbotsbury Swannery
Chesil Beach
Lily in Dorset
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Haiku

As it is National Poetry Month I thought I would write a Haiku.  Traditionally the Haiku has 17 syllables divided into 3 parts, the first with 5 syllables, the second with 7 syllables and the last with 5 syllables.  The Japanese Haiku is written in one long line whereas the English Haiku is written in 3 lines.   Generally the Haiku is written about nature or the seasons and the words paint the picture in the reader’s mind.  The Haiku should appeal to the senses and encourage the reader to meditate on the topic.  Mine captures the moment the fishing ends ………..

Sun sets, fishing stops

Herons hover overhead

Fish glide into reeds

 

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Gone Fishing

Under a fishing umbrella by the side of a lake in the pouring rain with husband and grandchildren, heaven happens.  There is nothing quite so exciting as being at the mercy of the elements but safe!  It appeals to our most basic human need for shelter and protection.  All our needs are met.  We are together, warm and dry and we have a picnic.  We are relaxed and at peace.  There is nothing we must do but enjoy ourselves.  It is a precious gift ~ time to be.  Grandchildren learn how to fish.  They watch the fluorescent tip of the float marking the place where the line enters the water.  The bait of sweetcorn gently drifts in the depths as we throw more corn in to attract the fish.  And it does.   The float waggles then dips down ~ a bite!    Ben gets the landing net ready and Rosie slides the unhooking mat into place.  The mat is clean and padded to protect the fish from injury or infection.  Gerry reels it in and Ben slips the net into the water and under the fish, gently lifting it clear of the water.    It’s heavy, maybe 8lbs.  A beautiful mirror carp.  It has a golden belly and silver scales along each side of the backbone.  The hook slips easily out of its mouth with the help of tiny forceps.  The children take a photograph of this beautiful creature then it is placed gently back in the net and returned to the lake.  We don’t throw the fish back like the match fishermen.  We let it rest in the net for a few minutes then tilt the net so it can swim out safely, unharmed.

The rain stops, ducks settle on the bank.  The sun comes out to end the day on a glorious note.   The match fishermen leave, but we stay to watch the sun go down.  The sky glows golden and the lake glitters.  Flies abound and the fish leap up to catch them.  Bats swirl around silently.  Then huge wings darken the sky as three herons appear over the tree tops.  They dominate the lake as they swoop down and help themselves to a fish supper.

It is an amazing sight and all we can do is watch in awe, then write Haiku about it!

Sun sets, fishing stops

Herons hover overhead

Fish glide into reeds

Grandad teaching Ben to fish, Rosie practising with a stick!

He’s got it!

Heron waiting for a fish supper

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A Tree of Friendship in a Peace Garden

The town of Sochi stretches for 145 km along the picturesque Black Sea Coast of the Western Caucasus.  It is in the Krasnodar region of Russia.  Because of the sub-tropical climate, and being in an area of outstanding natural beauty, it has developed into a popular health resort and favourite holiday destination for people from all parts of Russia, and more recently, other parts of the world.

Sochi is not only a town of health and recreation, but also a town dedicated to peace and friendship.

Sochi is linked with several communities in other parts of the world.  Being a spa town it was natural, if slightly amazing, for Sochi and Cheltenham to become twin towns, which they did many years ago.  This link thrives still and there are regular exchanges made by people of all ages, for many reasons and from all walks of life.

In 1973 an avenue of palm trees dedicated to the friendship of “twin towns” was set out in Sochi’s superb Arboretum.  And, there is a Glade of Friendship in the town’s Riviera Park formed by evergreen magnolia trees planted by statesmen, public leaders, and cosmonauts.  On 1 October 1975, the Soyuz and Apollo space crews set out the beautiful magnolias here in the name of peaceful space exploration.

But, most impressive in my opinion, is the Tree of Friendship in Sochi’s Peace Garden.  People from all walks of life and many different countries have travelled to Sochi and visited this famous tree.  Astronauts, Politicians, Hiroshima bomb survivors, Arctic Explorers, and tens of thousands of ordinary people, who, for one reason or another have been drawn to Sochi and to the Peace Garden.

The original citrus fruit tree was planted in 1937 and it has now grown into a whole orchard propagated from cuttings.  It is traditional for everyone who visits to leave a small gift from their community.  This custom has resulted in a unique collection of amazing items, which are now on display in a small museum in the peace garden.  There is a small charge to visit the Peace Garden and the Museum, which raises funds for its maintenance.  There is also a visitor’s book with some moving entries:  Long ago, M A Uljanov wrote,

“Everything begins with little things – fruit develops from the bud and a swift current is formed by tiny drops.  If each person did some good, if only a little, our earth would become a Garden of Friendship.”

I have travelled to Russia several times since 1995.  I would like to write a book about my impressions and experiences; the spectacular scenery; the people I have met; the churches I have visited, and the exquisite Icons I have seen.  But, the most memorable thing I have seen without doubt is the Tree of Friendship in the Peace garden.

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Easter 1997

An unforgettable day for me was Easter Sunday in 1997.  I had travelled to kisumu in Kenya with a group of educationalists from Gloucestershire.

Sunday is market day in Kisumu and Easter Sunday is no exception.  Strolling around among the goods laid out on the ground,  we saw an abundance of bananas and mangoes, maize, and spices galore.  There were shoes made out of old tyres and handsewn clothing.   Dolrosa bought a live chicken for our evening meal.   Purchased goods were carried home by the women in baskets on their heads.  Heavy goods were bundled on top of a matatu, a type of minibus.

I went off to Mass at St Theresa’s Cathedral where I was due to meet the Archbishop.  I had brought gifts of rosary beads, bibles and prayer books from STM to be distributed among the small churches in the tribal villages.  I also brought a silver Chalice for the Archbishop.  The Mass was a total revelation to me.  The congregation were dressed in the most beautiful and colourful outfits I had ever seen.  The children were adorable and particularly well dressed as they were to make their First Holy Communion.  The Mass was in Swahili which I did not understand but the singing was absolutely wonderful.  It was accompanied by African drumming.

It was cloudy, hot and humid outside but lovely and cool in the Cathedral.  When Mass ended and we walked out, the heavens opened and the rain came down in torrents.  In no time at all the roads were awash and there were puddles appearing by the roadside.   From out of nowhere children appeared stripped to the waste and leaped into the puddles.  They were full of joy and having a whale of a time.  It was great fun to watch them.

When the rain stopped the children all vanished then reappeared carrying empty tin cups, jugs or buckets.  This fascinated us and we were curious as to what they were waiting to collect.  Within minutes of the ground drying we found out.  Flying termites!!  They crawled out from every nook and cranny and took to the air.  But the children were obviously expert at this and they caught millions of the creatures.  They were so proud of their haul as they showed us how many they had caught.

By the time we reached home we were curious as to why they would want all these termites.  We soon found out when we got back to Dolrosa’s house.  There she was sitting on the kitchen floor over a gas ring with a frying pan full of flying termites.  She was preparing them as a treat for our Easter breakfast after church.

Mangoes on a market stall

Shoes made out of old car tyres

Easter Sunday buying lunch

fruit, vegetables, fish, meat, clothes, shoes, spices, all available at the market

Easter Sunday lunch is fried flying termites after heavy rain ~ nature’s bounty

Easter Sunday Mass in Kisumu

Instant swimming pool after heavy rain

Heading out to fish on Lake Victoria

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Palm Sunday 2012

The Little Springtime ~ Palm Sunday
I absolutely love Palm Sunday.  One of the highlights of the school year when I was teaching was making palm crosses for STM parish.  It was a joy to teach successive year sixes how to fold and weave the palms.  We took great pride in making the neatest and tightest crosses so that they would not unfold when held at the Sunday Mass.  At Easter in 1993 I went to the Palm forest in Elche in Spain, where many of the palms which we use in churches all over Europe, are grown.  When the palms start to grow they are tied up and covered so that the sun does not get to them.  This stops them turning green.  When they are fully grown they are cut and wrapped.  They have to be kept moist until they are folded as they dry out quickly. In Spain, where great Palm Sunday processions are held in the streets,palms are folded into amazing intricate and decorative shapes.   But I prefer our simple crosses.  I treasure one that was made for me last year by my husband when I did not manage to get to a church service.  He did not have a proper palm frond so he went out into the garden and picked some long straight leaves which he lovingly weaved into a cross.   That one takes pride of place in my box of treasures.
Between 1970 and 2000 my life as a parent, teacher and then head teacher meant that my trips were always governed by school holidays.  Not being keen on very hot weather my favourite time to travel was always the Easter holidays.  For most of the 80’s and 90’s the Easter holidays meant I could join a Jumbulance trip to Lourdes with ACROSS.  I have written about one special Lourdes trip in a previous blog and I hope to write about my other trips eventually
Other memorable Easter holidays were spent in Kenya, Spain, Taize and Russia. In the Jubilee year of 2000, a very difficult year for me, I travelled between Assisi and Rome. 
Travel for me is an opportunity to learn about other people and to share with them; their traditions, communities and lives.  Sometimes we can be of help in some way and make a difference to people’s lives.  That is a privilege and a blessing.
One man who made a real difference was Roger Schutz.  In the 1940s he was appalled by the violence and suffering he saw across Europe.  Throughout the war years, he sheltered political refugees, especially Jews, whom he helped cross the border into Switzerland from the occupied region of France.  He began to develop the idea of a community based on mutual understanding and respect for all.  He found a suitable site at Taize near Cluny in the Burgundy region of France and on Palm Sunday of 1948, seven men took monastic vows.  They dedicated their lives to working and praying for ‘outsiders’ of all kinds; especially those living in extremes of poverty, hunger, or disease.  Taize is now famous for its gentle and powerful worship built on meditation through repetitive chants, a model of worship which has spread around the world.  Brother Roger’s work continues; to bring reconciliation, unity and peace to all the peoples of the world.  www.taize.fr
There is a beautiful icon of Mary in the Church of Reconciliation inTaize.  I would recommend anyone who travels to France to make a detour so that they can spend some time in Taize.  When I went to Taize one summer I had an amazing experience.   I stood alone in a field full of sunflowers, at the foot of the hill looking up towards the church, as a gentle breeze blew.  The wind caused the flowers to bend and the sound they made was so strange.   It reminded me strongly of the beautiful words of one of my favourite hymns:
 Be still for the presence of the Lord
Be still for the presence of the Lord  The holy one is here
Come bow before him now  With reverence and fear
In him no sin is found  We stand on holy ground
Be still for the presence of the Lord  The holy one is here
Be still for the power of the Lord  Is moving in this place
He comes to cleanse and heal  To minister his grace
No work too hard for him  In faith receive from him
Be still for the power of the Lord  Is moving in this place
I wish you all a peaceful and Happy Palm Sunday and the joy of your family around you x
Palm Sunday Crosses
Intricate Palm Sunday sculptures on display
Palm Tree a Elche
Icon of Our Lady at Taize
Brother Roger of Taize