One afternoon, a couple of days ago, a lull in the gales tempted me outdoors for a spot of gardening. Muscles which hadn't been used in several months were cajoled into action as I pottered about in the mild air, spurred on by some actual sunshine.
Between bouts of activity, I wandered around the garden collecting fallen cones from a neighbour's trees, the afore-mentioned gales having distributed the empty cones far and wide. A few brave plants have emerged from the ground, their flowers adding splashes of colour here and there.
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| Crocus |
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| Daffodil |
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| Dwarf Iris |
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| Some cones |
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| Lupin leaves and dew drops |
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| A Hellebore I'm not certain that we knew we had |
The object of the exercise, however, was to backfill the hole we'd dug a year ago, when we thought that the front garden would be the location for a pond. Remember this photo from Spring 2024?
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| Spring 2025 |
Excavating activity will presently begin in the rear garden.
Meantime, when the weather's dreich and we're stuck indoors, the current go-to wildlife webcam is in Kenya at a place called ol Donyo. Rather hilariously, we had been watching it for several weeks before we even noticed its famous neighbour.
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| Here's a still from dawn today showing a flock of Helmeted Guineafowl |
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And another still from a few hours later with a more varied cast of characters
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What isn't visible, often being obscured by cloud, is located about 40 miles away across the border in Tanzania.
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| Mount Kilimanjaro, as seen several months ago |
Nearer to home, Blackbirds are singing in the early light, Curlews have begun their territorial bubbling calls and the Skylarks are back, although no matter how high they ascend, I doubt they will be able to see Kilimanjaro either.
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