Friday, August 30, 2013
The Luttrell Psalter
Posted by Rowan at Friday, August 30, 2013 4 comments:
Wednesday, August 28, 2013
A Suffolk Lane
Here is the lane they live on, their house is up the lane beyond the trees.
One of my favourites is the beautiful pink convolvulus arvensis which grows everywhere. As it's common name is field bindweed I suspect that it isn't as popular with the local farmers as it is with me:)
I think that this is the prickly sow thistle - whatever it is it's very popular with the local insects, hoverflies, wasps etc The large hoverfly at the top is Heliphilus affinis and I think it's rather beautiful. The smaller one is I think Episyrphus balteatus or the marmalade hoverfly. If you click on the photo you'll be able to see the markings on both of them more clearly.
Equally popular was a stand of purple (spear?)thistles which was absolutely alive with bees, hoverflies and butterflies. The photo shows (yet another of my 'I thinks!) two white tailed bees and a small white butterfly on a single flower. I am as always open to correction on any of my attempts at identification :)
Edited to add that this is actually a female Large White butterfly - thanks Roy:)
Posted by Rowan at Wednesday, August 28, 2013 20 comments:
Monday, August 26, 2013
A New Twig on the Tree
It's been a long time since I last posted but I'm back again now. A lot of this summer has been spent in Suffolk helping my lovely daughter-in-law Francesca before and after the birth of her third baby - and here he is:) Jude Samuel was born on July 30th and weighed in at 6lb 9oz.
A couple of days before Jude was born we spent the afternoon at Bressingham Steam Museum which we all enjoyed.
This is the Night Mail crossing the border,
Bringing the cheque and the postal order,
Letters for the rich, letters for the poor,
The shop at the corner and the girl next door.
Pulling up Beattock, a steady climb:
The gradient's against her, but she's on time.
Past cotton-grass and moorland boulder
Shovelling white steam over her shoulder,
Snorting noisily as she passes
Silent miles of wind-bent grasses.
Birds turn their heads as she approaches,
Stare from the bushes at her blank-faced coaches.
Sheep-dogs cannot turn her course;
They slumber on with paws across.
In the farm she passes no one wakes,
But a jug in the bedroom gently shakes.
There is also a great film called 'Night Mail' produced in 1936 by the GPO film unit which includes the whole of poem. Needless to say I have it on DVD:) It's also available on Youtube and shows exactly how the TPOs worked. The little portion showing men working on the line shows the job my dad did, he was a platelayer on the railways for most of his working life. Do watch it - it's a fascinating glimpse of a world now long gone.
........and Corporal Jones' butcher's shop.
Jonesy's iconic blue delivery van is there too.
Posted by Rowan at Monday, August 26, 2013 18 comments:
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