In the garden today

Scarlet Tiger Moth on Vipers Buglos

It was fantastic to see this on moth today. Commonly, it is found only in the South of the country on sand dunes and heathland. Vipers buglos is a British native plant of coastal sand dunes. We collected seed down at Slapton Sands some years ago and it thrives on gravel and light sandy soil as a biannual. It is vital to create diversity in the garden to attract different pollinators; their varied mouth parts reach different shaped flowers.

Sunday Morning

When the mist languishes down the pane in rivulets of tears, speckling the glass in glistening bubble chains;
and the pendulous trees nod and bow in random motion against roar of the wind ;the spume of cloud moves across the sky in an unfurled carpet
Of grey;
and the moorland ridge is seemingly pellucid and the world beyond the tops of trees has gone,in hyaline cloak;it seems discernible to stay awhile in bed.

No such thing as bad weather

‘There’s no such thing as bad weather, just the wrong clothes’.

A local saying and so true. Just back from a lovely walk across fields along a flat ridge. No view as such but the sun not far from view despite the rain intensifying by the minute.

Shrouded white
Like ships in full sail
Galleons adrift
Trees moving against
A sea of soft green.
A flume of mist 
To cloak the world
Swept across
Broad swathes of grass
Close cut
Windswept
Rain drenched
Earth.

The Keepers

Think of these as keepers,
Closed ranks
On hidden secrets
Form connotations of mystic meaning
Threaded through time. 
The world without
Dark mystery within
Waiting;
Questions surround;
Clear purpose inside.
What covert union
Maintains the recumbent secret
Unscripted in ancient rocks
From Welsh Pressili hills?
Behemothic bluestone
Hewn a hundred miles away
With Neolithic tools-
Rome wasn’t built in a day 
Or Pyramids by the Nile;
Which age considered primitive?
The stones  won’t enlighten our
Naivety
Or edify the secret;
Think of these as keepers.



Ruth Partridge

Cairn

Sculptural art
Or pile of rocks
The view aloft on mountain tops;
To one just a ragged mound
Another a safety line is found;
When lost in mist the drop is spared
By the site of stones ahead impaired.
One time with friend
We’d set off clear
Intentions sharp, maps set 
No fear;
We reached the ridge in record time 
And onward to the peak we climbed. 
Only then, did a shower of snow
Deplete the route we aimed to go;
At which with compass bearing checked 
Precariously we inched our way 
Knowing that the edge was near 
Impossible though it was to clear
So heavily it snowed and fast 
We were unsure how long it’d  last.
Nervously we stopped to think 
And suddenly the mist retreated
Enough to see that pile of stones
A cairn which every walker knows 
Marks a cross or sudden drop
We knew we were right to make that stop.
So as we pass that way marked spot
We place a stone upon the top
With care by some 
And others not 
But working together the pile will grow
And mark the place like lighthouse glow 
For all who chance on mountain slope 
The cairn is there to give some hope.

Ruth Partridge


Change within miles

How lucky we are to live between the moors and the sea. Sometimes we feel in a bubble of our own microclimate. A short drive and everything can be different. 

A strengthening wind
And unsettled sky 
Grey mist intermittent over the moor
A short distance South 
To where land meets the sea 
Over the hill 
The sea comes to view
The colours transformed 
Cerulean and green
Sparkling in the distance 
We rounded the lane 
Drove down to the familiar beach again.
The difference so great 
Clear skies and wide views 
Start Bay at its best  
How quickly things change.

Beesands