September 30th 2014

Well it has arrived - the final posting!

 

 

I'm not sure of my emotions today. Partly sadness as this year long blog has captured my imagination more than I thought it would. Partly relief. There have been times when either grabbing an image or being stimulated to write have been wanting. On the whole though I have enjoyed it. I've enjoyed the rigour of having to do something each day (although sometimes they needed to be done in blocks to catch up). But yes, above all it's been tremendous fun. I had planned today would be a resume of some of the posts, but in the end one stands out more than others for me, May 8th http://365-2-50.blogspot.co.uk/2014/05/may-8th-2014.html and my thoughts on a flowering holly

 

On May 8th I ended my posting with .... the Wheel of Life, of which we humans are part of, revolves imperceptibly. This morning I passed the same holly bush, a bush I walk by every day. 138 days after writing about the flowers I stopped and looked at the bush again, this time resplendent with newly ripened berries. The same leaves were there, the same branches, yet those flowers in May are transformed into a red extravaganza. It's the same, yet it's different.

 

 

People walking to work passed by me probably wondering what I was up to. No one stopped and asked me, and that is a salient point - in our daily rush to succeed many do not stop and stare, do not enquire, do not wonder. Every minute of our lives has to be filled with activity. Yet we miss the obvious, the everyday, the mundane. One day though it will be gone, and us with it.  Today it was announced that September 2014 is the driest since 1910, and the 4th or 5th warmest depending on which information you read. Certainly at 19 degrees at 6pm, its warm indeed.  It is also a day when the Worldwide Fund For Nature highlighted 50% of species have declined in the last 40 years due to man's influence. Sobering thoughts and not one for discussion in my last posting, but!

 

And the but is, we must make time to stop. We have to value the whole not the item. By that I mean we should look around, observe, listen, feel, experience, not just the high days but the mundane properties of our time on this revolving rock. I can remember beginning this blog and it really does feel like a few weeks ago, not one year, not 1/70th of my life, not a full wheel of the natural year. And that is my message as this blog drifts off into terminal hibernation. I have a record of my 50th year and most of the things I did, mostly mundane though important at the time. But what of tomorrow, next month, next year? They'll be here soon enough and unless we grab the moment we may regret times passing. Like this sandwich I had for lunch. Use by date October 1st, that was the future, the first day without a blog entry. Yet like the blog it is now shown on, it now no longer exists, the moment has passed. History. 

 

And the book? Well that arrived in the post at work from a trade internet book supplier. A 1921 publication by CRW Knight one of the pioneers of wildlife photography. Inside the cover is an inscription "To Dear Daddy, with much love from Dennis. Xmas 1921" A Christmas gift then, bought and inscribed 93 years ago, 43 years before I was born. Daddy and my guess Dennis are no longer here, yet their love for wildlife shines through in a  few simple words. Daddy presumably liked wildlife, and Dennis his son wanted to give him a present he would appreciate. A simple inscription passed down through time therefore closes this blog. We can learn a lot from the past, the present is but a single heartbeat, They are both finite and known. It is the future we have at our disposal, the future is infinite and to do with, as we wish.

 

Carpe Diem

September 29th 2014

 

Even before I moved into the house in December 2009 I knew I wanted to dig up he decking. I loathe decking. I didn't say anything to the estate agent or the sellers as then it was only a couple of years old and they were very proud of it; the estate agent said, this decking really makes the house. Well maybe, but it segregated the garden with a 15cm rise up from the lawn and in wet weather became an absolute no-go area, talk about slippy!!  Five years down the line and I finally have the time to rip the darn stuff up, so with a day off I set too. As the before and after images show, I've created a right old mess but already the garden seems bigger and not made up of a patchwork of hard landscaping. However this 50 year old body can not do what it did even 5 years ago. I am not in any way match fit. Some of those wooden joists were extraordinarily heavy and there were 10 of them. By 3pm I'd had enough but felt so pleased I'd managed to get it all up in 6 hours. Just need to rebuild the garden now.

 

September 28th 2014

 

I'm outside. As I sit and write this at 7.30pm, it is almost dark, very warm for the end of September and to my right a blackbird is singing. I've looked but I cannot find where he is perched. Yet he is there, somewhere;  a libretto of notes pervade the gathering dusk,  his flute-like calling seeming at odds with the lateness of the year. Blackbirds sing in spring don't they. Well yes, but also at dusk throughout the rest of the year, like tonight with an occasional tik tik social call to add to the melody. An hour ago the local jackdaws were in full voice overhead, the jak-a-jak contact call as they fly overhead in social and family groups. A fitting end both to today, to the summer and this blog which sadly has only 2 more entries to go.

 

Having not been over to Wiltshire for 3 months until last Friday, today saw me back there for the second time in 48 hours. This time it was to accompany Julie to the Pewsey Vale Riding Centre where she was on a 2 hour hack over the hills. This left me with a 2 hour window of opportunity. Coffee first but then I spent about 30 minutes watching swallows and house martins gathering along the southern slopes of the Pewsey Downs. I'd noticed before we left around 100 swallows on a line behind the house. In Wiltshire however there were 1-2,000 over a field. Perched like squabbling children on wires they preened and fidgeted until either more arrived to add to the cacophony or, as happened frequently, a buzzard or carion crow would hassle them. Then, they'd shoot off in a ragged ball of energy, swooping and diving away over the fields or behind a spinney, to return to the wires a few minutes later. More arrived, and although I was about 400 yards away, the chattering hirundines were raising the volume to 11.  Then just before 1pm, they took off and headed en masse over the riding stables and were gone, save for a few stragglers. Summer's end before me, they are presumably heading now to one of the south coast roost sites to gather and then at first light if the conditions remain favourable, they'll be gone.

 

I once witnessed something similar on Ramsey Island off Tenby a few years back now. It was early October and I stood looking at some seal loafing about in the sea below. Suddenly about 1-200 swallows appeared right overhead and proceeded to fly along the cliffs first one way and then back, maybe for half a dozen times and then in a chattering exit they flew out over the sea and in minutes I'd lost them in the binoculars. Bird migration is an absolutely amazing process - those swallows on Ramsey and the ones today registering the landforms that will guide them back in 6 months. A process which has been happening long before humans witnessed this act of avian ordinance.

 

Now at 8pm it is dark, the first fingers of night cooling the warmth of the day. Breathless night begins as a mother of pearl crescent moon is peeking from behind a shrub while a late tractor passes by, its trailer laden with forage from a field not far away. The year is waning, yet life carries on. It has been a good day, and it's been a good year to write this blog. Hurry back swallows, hurry back....

September 27th 2014

 

Meet Bellatrix and Beau in a garden setting (I hope I have these round the right way now - got it wrong on Facebook). Two gorgeous barn owls in captivity and managed expertly by Chris Sperring MBE, the Hawk and Owl Trust Conservation Officer. I've known Chris for about 6 years now. I'd heard of his work before I met him but we work together on radio shows like Living World. Both these captive bred owls (1 year and 14 respectively) are used by Chris for educational purposes, often taking them into schools most conservation organisations don't go into, in deprived areas. Sterling work and I am honoured to have Chris on my list of friends. We've been trying to get together for a few months as Julie wanted to both see the owls but have a go at painting them. The moment had arrived and wonderfully photogenic they were - in two hours I managed to zip off 70+ photographs. Some were classic studies like below, others action shots of the wings and behaviour. I learnt something too today - the mottling scheme on the back of barn owls is as unique as our fingerprints - so individual owls can be identified by experts without the use of rings. How cool is that?

 

Such a wonderful morning to be near these majestic birds. A privilege. Thank you Chris (and Emma his partner).

September 26th 2014

 

I last saw Silbury Hill on June 8th. Yet before then it was a weekly occurrence as I commuted back and forth from Julie's house. A few weeks ago a wonderful radio programme abridged 'On Silbury Hill' by Adam Thorpe, thereby revealing more about this ancient man-made hill than I knew. And it was the first time I have heard mention of its oscillating size. I'd wondered about this many times, as discussed by Adam Thorpe in his book. At some angles the hill is dwarfed by the landscape, at other angles it towers over the hills which surround it.  A fascinating structure indeed and it was nice to adjourn my journey home and grab a few images from the pull in by the A4.

 

The reason for my drive by of Silbury was a Trustee meeting at the Jefferies Museum near Swindon. I had to miss the last meeting in June due to overworking commitments so I was determined to hit this meeting. And I'm glad I did. Not only was the garden looking fantastic in this Indian Summer of a September but recently the Museum had unearthed the remnants of a cow shed and floor, plus the original (looking mostly the worse for wear ) blue gate into the farm yard. For the first time in ages then the original 17th Century farm can be viewed from the yard (now a vegetable garden). Before some volunteers went mad with the loppers, this area between the wall and the shed was a massed blackberry shrubbery. It seemed right then to take this new view from the garden, in sepia. It was wonderful after the meeting finished to walk around the museum grounds on my own, in dappled sunshine, presumably as Jefferies himself did many times as a child. We create footsteps, but leave the imprint for the next person to pass by.



September 25th 2014

 

At ten to seven it was almost dark - a sun drenched day had become a dullard of a day and by 6pm I had to put some lights on to work. I sat in the office working away when out of the corner of my eye I looked at a dull shape on the shed roof. Fortunately I had my camera with me and the resulting shot was taken, a large female sparrowhawk. From the window with the naked eye I couldn't make it out but the image confirmed this magnificent apex predator. A few days before I'd watched her aerial chasing of house martins although their speed of turn seemed to outwit her. But that aside having her in the garden is a most wonderful thing and although there is a trade off to feeding the sparrows and other passerines, it is part of the rich tapestry of the natural world. A wonderful end to the day and no sooner had the image been taken she was off in a fast glide into the gathering gloom.

September 24th 2014

I'm now into the last week of this year long project and it seemed apt then that today I'm thinking both on the lovely sunset at 7pm but also reflecting on the 359 days passed. Days that passed in a blink of an eye. I knew they would but it is amazing writing something every day seems to make time both slow down and speed up in equal measure. Certainly this time last year I wasn't in as comfortable place in myself as I am 12 months later. Back in September 2013, I was exhausted, utterly drained of all energy, mentally. Not sleeping, not able to concentrate well, even a long holiday that month failed to shake the bones of depression away. Yes something positive came out of that, that sleepless night on September 30th 2013 kick started this blog project and ultimately drove a deep wedge between my developing depression and a positive future.  So today, or really tonight, as I watched the sun set, waiting for the jackdaws to pass by the house on way to their evening roost, this image of the sky reflected in the window, sort of sums up what his project has been about. A clear perspective, reflecting, looking back and forward. 6 days to go. It will seem strange not having this comfort blanket around me any more.

September 23rd 2014

 

We seem to be breeding fish tanks. At the weekend we bought a new 35 litre tank as the one we have, a 15 litre, is bulging at the seams. It shouldn't be bulging but the rainbow platies we bought 5 of have been breeding. We now have 12 adults and this week another little tiddler was observed in amongst the foliage. 13, plus two bronze cory's its time to get them a bigger home. So tonight we have the new tank on the left being seasoned - basically it runs for a week without any fish to remove chemicals and help build up beneficial bacteria. And to the right the old fish tank moved temporarily to the middle of the room. I wonder if the fish look out and think "what on earth is going on now?".  Certainly the bronze cory below looks un-amused. Moving them from tank to tank will be fun!!

September 22nd 2014

 

I slept well last night. Well considering I had a huge day to awake to. Today I recorded 20 episodes of Tweet of the Day with a life long hero of mine, Michael Palin. There are moments in a life when the stars shine bright, the sun is warm and the World seems a better place. And so it was today.  It began well, my drive through the mist and mellow fruitfulness of the Somerset Levels around here was a gem of a journey. Luckily I had my camera with me and managed to run off a handful of images en route. Vapour trails are very photogenic, but we forget the costs.

 

To the main event of the day, the arrival of Mr Michael Palin into BBC Bristol. It is almost too embarrassing to say but since a child I have admired this man. Firstly as a comic genius, but latterly as a travel journalist of huge stature. Something I mentioned when we sat for a coffee before the reading, the excitement of Around The World in 80 Days when it first came out, which unbelievably was 25 years ago and on September 25th 1988 the first day of the actual journey took place.

 

Today I don't mind admitting I was nervous. Meeting a great man, a lifelong hero and also making sure I got 20 programmes recorded took it's toll. I'd not been this nervous since my degree exam days. I needn't have worried. I received the call from BBC Security - Mr Palin has arrived. Wandering down to the car park there he was, alone just looking like he always does, looking for this unknown producer. He saw me and pointed and I pointed back. "Mr Palin, I'm Andrew Dawes". A banal beginning but it broke the ice. Beside us was a gardener desicrating a hedge with a petrol trimmer  - "what a great place to do a recording" he quipped as we went to the bar. With him briefly was his 'Travelling to Work' tour manager Jo who made her excuses and beetled off to I no not where.

 

We sat down with a coffee and exchanged pleasantries. People around us looked and looked again. Members of the team drifted in and paid their respects, followed closely by one of the bar girls who wanted her photo taking. Eventually this calmed down and we had a run through of the scripts, making suggestions and working out the delivery speed. What a professional he is, asking my advice and that I was to direct him as to what I wanted (I'd suggest he would be far better placed to deliver this than I). In the studio it was the same.

 

We began with programme 110, and immediately I knew this was going to be good. 200 words, read twice and not a mistake. A cascade of cultured words emanated from behind the glass, a delivery like the velvet cascade of a favourite uncle telling a much loved story around the camp fire. I was hooked. The team behind me were hooked, and Mike the engineer of 40 years experience just turned to me and said "this is good".  It was. After an hour and a half we had a break and Michael Palin entertained us with his anecdotes of his Python days, plus his quite exceptional experience in the Welsh hotel the night before  - room service only, he was barred from having food anywhere else in the building. His way of telling us this had us in raptures.

 

We finished the recording at 2pm and managed to run off some trails for Radio 4. Then some photographs - official ones to begin with in front of the branding banners, but then I asked if I could have a personal one taken with him  - he stood close to me and pointed a finger at me, I returned the gesture and we stood there shooting each other. It was natural and absolutely a diamond moment in my life. I'd earlier asked if I could have a personal photo taken outside and we stood next to a tree. He put his arm around me and likewise I did him, so the above image was created. And then it was all over, he walked off across the carpark and was gone to his hotel and a rendezvous with the people of Bristol at the Colston Hall tonight.

 

I finished work early today. After that, the anticipation first thing, I was on a high, I couldn't concentrate and above all I wanted to saviour this moment. Meeting a childhood hero could have been a crushing disappointment. They may not live up to expectations, the bubble may burst. Not today. Michael Palin is above all a very professional person to work with, but he is much more. He is a very decent man, that comes through without ceremony. I feel privileged to have been able to spend  3 hours in his world, an 8th of a day, but a period of time I'd not change for the world. 

 

One final thing I asked him if he would be willing to sign my script, expecting a signature. He wrote "To Andrew, thank you for allowing me to tweet! Michael" It seems since being asked to do this programme back in June, he has become a fan of Tweet of the Day.

 

Now that is something for my memoirs. I shall sleep well tonight.

September 21st 2014

Weekends. If we're not drinking coffee in a tea shop, the remaining time at a weekend is filled with gardening stuff, and probably involves a garden tea shop too. Today we're thinking about winter tubs. Bizarrely given that the weather still feels like summer, planning winter pots and tubs seems ridiculous. But it needs doing, the planning does at least. And so in the back of the Clio - Julie's business car, compost, 6 bags of scented narcissi, 24 cyclamen and what you can't seen, a net of 90 tulip bulbs. The only non growing purchase is the terracotta saucer.  I'd like a birdbath, but looking at them, £60, £70, £80 or more. This £6 dish was bought which while having a tea was painted black inside and is now on an upturned plant pot awaiting the first bathing sparrow. Black and terracotta are so-autumn 2014.

September 20th 2014

 

Less than 100 days to Christmas you know?  And so it was in Cheddar Garden Centre today that the Christmas buying bonanza seemed to have begun. A couple of weeks ago the self same garden centre had a tiny display of Christmas cards and crackers. Today however the extent of the display was as a growing carbuncle. Don't mis-understand me, I'm not a Scrooge when it comes to the Festive Season, I love it. But - and it's a big but - I don't think mid-September is right for Christmas. That's three months of having to cope with the fear of Slade melodies as I pootle about the hinterland. In my mind Christmas and everything it throws at us should begin on the 1st of December. Sadly the powers that are consumerable middle men (and women) want our money now, before the next guy gets it. And that devalues Christmas by making it a marathon and not a special 100 metre dash of a celebration; in my book at least. If they have to make the cash tills ring out loud before the last swallow has left the nest, then maybe a compromise - all mention of Christmas is off limits until the day after November 5th?

 

To quell the stem of nervous tension that image above brought, as we drove home, we passed a new (to us and as it turns out only a month open) tea shop. Charlotte's in Winscombe. And very acceptable it is too. They offered a special breakfast blend of tea and it slipped down a treat. It's good to see young women branching out with a business. We need more of that to make the world a brighter place. 

September 19th 2014

Image copyright : BBC
 

I awoke at 6.30am. Switching on the mobile phone the first thing I read was that the people of Scotland had voted to remain in the Union, by 55.3 % voting no to 44.7% voting yes. A decisive vote to remain part of the United Kingdom, but not a resounding vote. An alert popped up to advise me that David Cameron would be making an important speech at 7am. And so it turned out to be. An announcement that by January 2015 a draft white paper would be in place (to be ratified after the May 2015 General Election) to outline how more powers of governance would not only be offered to Scotland, but also English regions, Wales, and Northern Island. Coherence of the Union is guaranteed now for a generation or more, fractious developments within that union seem to be just beginning to raise their heads above the parapet. Certainly the public's appetite for politics seems to be whetted after the turnout at 84.6% in Scotland was the highest ever turnout since 1918 and the introduction of universal suffrage.  It will be a very interesting time ahead indeed.

September 18th 2014

 

Two things of monumental importance are happening today. It is my fathers' 83rd birthday and there's a referendum happening in Scotland. Born 1931, a few days later the United Kingdom abandoned the 'Gold Standard' that unit of measurement for monetary conformity, the pound devalued by 20%.  Apt then that 83 years later if Scotland decides Yes, the monetary integration of the United Kingdom once again looks set for restructuring.  To me my father still seems the same as he has always done. Older yes, but not 83 years of age, that seems an astonishing  age for one so young in outlook.  Yet it is but a blink of the eye. The ever youthful James Dean was also born in 1931 and by a cruel turn of fate his death in September 1955 left us with an image of a 24 year old in the prime of his life. At that time my father had just left the RAF after national service and was heading in the direction of a career as a production artist, in the prime of his life. I met two paths and followed the one...... 

 

Modern Scotland was born in 1606 when the Act of the Crown made for a single Sovereign. Acts in 1706 and 1707 sealed the union of the two kingdoms of England and Scotland and a remarkable dynasty was created which over the next 200 years allowed this tiny island cluster off the coast of Europe to dominate the World in a way far and above it's actual size. As with many things the emergence of the British Empire meant that everyone wanted to be on-board and lapped up the spoils of success. All things wax and wane, so too has the importance of the United Kingdom, struggling to adapt to its new role as understudy upon the World stage. So when the going get tough the tough get going and although I would hate to see the Union fracture, I think it is inevitable. We live in complex times, everyone and every state wishes to be self governing. The self has become prominent in the much weakened self-adhesive. We see it in individual 'know my rights' ways of thinking, and we see it in the break up of large states into their historical boundaries. The advent of the Internet (to a wider non-military use audience) was intended to bring people together with a common good. Yet as many suspected the chaos of un-regulation the Internet brings to the World, is partly fuelling the  Independence and self above others debate around the world too.  Certainly in 1931 one would only know what newsprint editors decided to print. News travelled slowly and in a regulated way. Now everyone has a voice and with 7 billion on the planet, that's an awful lot of independent chattering discussing the needs of self over adhesive.

 

My father said growing up in the 1930's was a simpler time. Not necessarily better, just simpler. Life now seems much too complex for real happiness. Always a man of few words, but having supreme common sense and intelligence, I think he may have a point.

 

Happy Birthday Dad.

 

September 17th 2014

 

There are times when my alter ego surfaces and the urge to create something silly manifests itself. And so it did today. Walking back to the car this afternoon, autumn is really gathering apace. Leaves are now falling steadily, and although the days still feel like summer (the driest and warmest September so far since 1960) the sepia confetti littering the ground tells a different story. Crunch crunch crunch the feet trod through an endless sea of beechmast. I picked up a few as I walked and then pausing by a tired looking horse chestnut, a ripe conker, joined by an about to emerge shining beauty. The plan was born. In Somerset as autumn advances the wee folks emerge from under low shrubs and thickets to practice a pastime known as conker knocking. Modesty prevents me from explaining the rules, and yet adorned with beechmast hats and a grin to scatter a thousand fairies, for millennia these woodland folk have celebrated the bounty of Mother Earth. I was lucky enough to meet these shy retiring chaps as they rehearsed for the all Wessex Knock-a-Conker Finals at Stone Allerton. Fierce rivalry will bring forth many a bruised ego, yet by sundown the calm of the woods will once again envelope what promises to be a lively competition. I just hope I don't meet the one at the back on a moonlit walk home from the pub.

September 16th 2014

A splendid morning today. As I drove in through the misty Somerset landscape it seemed a perfect day to have breakfast outdoors. Arriving at the work-stead just after 8 am gave me ample time for a quiet full English from the BBC canteen. Full English has to be the flavoursome part of domestic cuisine. So a self service 7 items from the self service canteen plus a cup of tea all for £3.14. A bargain in anyone's books. I wonder how many meals I've had on this canteen terrace of the last 21 years. In fact these tables were partly my doing. Craig a long past Canteen Manager asked my advice as to who produced good solid picnic tables, I recommended Devon Oke furniture, lo and behold a few weeks later these arrived and that must be close to 10 years ago, still going strong. In those days there'd be about 15 sitting around the tables, our little gang, laughing and carrying on with a lot of nonsense. They've all left now, and like this morning I often have lunch on my own, a dinosaur in a business of bright young things. I was there too 21 years ago. Time moves on quickly, much like this year long blog.

September 15th 2014

This ray of sunshine is a wonderful edition to the garden flora, newly emerged from some winter spilt bird seed. I spotted this growing a few weeks back and today it finally emerged in all it's glory. An obvious image of the day then, taken after just returning home from a day in Southampton where I'd been at a voice over recording with Chris Packham, for Tweet of the Day.  This wasn't the only sunny thing today. I was at the River Studios in Southampton, Studio B to be precise. Next door to the studio, which is in a 1950's suburban back garden, were these parrots. I have no idea what species they are, (presumably captive bread for their colour) but an interesting sight and sound as I waited for everyone to turn up to record Tweet of the Day. There must have been 20 birds in this large aviary, a most entertaining diversion, especially as I'd arrived an hour early and there was no one there.... good job it was sunny then.

 

September 14th 2014

Home produce below, Cheddar strawberries above. The latter came from a  roadside stall on our way to Axbridge after picking up some books from Stephen Moss (he was out and we had a nice chat with Suzanne his wife). But today was about doing things yet somehow we ended up not doing anything, other than eating strawberries, which was followed by a lunch in the Almshouse Cafe in Axbridge, then home for a spot of gardening. This included picking a huge bowl of outdoor tomatoes in then garden. I'm amazed we have had so many as I planted these in May and have done absolutely nothing to them at all. They've not been fed, all the usual management things of removing side shoots were ignored and these are now entangles amongst the runner beans, producing masses of tomatoes, yellow or red. Fresh strawberries, and fresh off the vine tomatoes, can anything be better for a taste of the open air.

September 13th 2014

I'll miss writing about our Saturday coffees when this project ends. There have been a fair few morning coffees mentioned over the year. Today we where at the Ethicurian again in Wrington having a coffee before heading off to the North Somerset Ploughing Match at Kingston Seymour the next village to us. As I sat there today supping my coffee this was my view and it's a great view. Saturday mornings, a quality paper and a coffee, with or without cake. The older I get the more hedonistic my life becomes, and to be honest I'm happy with that. But a different social event awaited our arrival, today then a short coffee and very moist sticky ginger cake. I've been going to the annual Ploughing Match for many years now and so it's a pleasure to be able to attend again. It's something I enjoy doing, enjoy taking the images and watching real skills as the furrow is ploughed. Today Julie joined me and we met a friend Sheena.  60 photographs taken, many of the 7 teams of plough horses there and then a good chin-wag over a tea, or two. And I never thought I'd get these two beauties in one image, a Massey 35 and a Leyland 270. The first was the first vehicle I ever owned, the latter my tough as old boots workhorse from 30+ years ago. These aren't my vehicles of course but the memory lingers on. 

September 12th 2014

A wonderful end to the week. Even though it was a 4 day week at work, it seemed longer. Scripts, checking, and planning all too their toll. So returning home at 5pm we had a choice, stay in and be sensible and make a nice meal at home, or, go to the pub. By 6.30pm we were at The Swan pub at Rowberrow near Axbridge. War enough to still sit outside we imbibed a few liquid delicacies whilst perusing the menu. Butter-nut Squash wellington and accompanied spicy potato something for the lady. Home made burger in a bun for the gentleman. We don't often go out on a Friday, nor indeed any evening after work. It was so nice to be outside, listening to the swallows and martins overhead, watching the sun set and be surrounded by chattering people doing the same. The simple pleasures of Somerset life, a meal out with a loved one after work. Can't beat it.

September 11th 2014

For some reason I woke up this morning at 2am. Looking out of the bedroom window over the fields they were bathed in a strong while light from the 'super moon' overhead. Not quite at full moon stage which was yesterday, the super moon in question has delighted photographers across Britain. We had a similar occurrence in August when the moon is at it's closest orbit to the earth and coloured a deep orange on emergence over the horizon as the sun is more or less setting at the same time in a direct line. On Monday driving back from the North East the mood really did look huge and orange over the Cotswold Hills as we sped down the M5. At this time the moon is about 10-14% larger in the sky but can be 30% brighter. Certainly tonight as I looked out of the window the moonlight was dazzling. Time enough then to attempt a photograph of our nearest piece of outer space. Always there, yet hard to imagine it was once walked upon by men. The moon holds a special fascination to me and many people and cultures across the ages of time. A never ending waning and waxing of our little satellite and beloved of many howling lunatic.

September 10th 2014

Suddenly it's feeling autumnal. Even though the days are sunny and very warm at the moment, nature is closing down for the year. I parked my car today in one of the tree lined streets of Bristol underneath a beech tree. The ground, and my car when I returned, was littered in beech-mast. That satisfying crunch as I walked along the pavement recalled may happy days pootling around the woods as a child. Today as I walked passed parked cars the gentle and continuous 'ping and ting' of mast hitting roofs and bonnets provided an audible experience to my daily commute. This is a wonderful time of the year and I'm making the most of the warm sunshine and developing colours. A covering of beech mast over my car is a small price to pay for such beauty.

September 9th 2014

In a continuation of this lovely warm autumnal sunshine we've been having recently, I returned home from work to find Julie engrossed in her new Thomas Hardy book, The Mayor of Casterbridge. After spending some time researching Julies family, discovering they were 'on the land' in and around Dorchester in the 19th Century, I mentioned to Julie that if she read Hardy's books she'd gain a keen understanding of how her ancestors may have lived at Charminster. Julie is engrossed in the books and it makes me think I should re-read these wonderful works again. Autumnal bliss.

September 8th 2014

Dear Lord what on earth is going on here? Well that's easy. This is the Boldon Dawes's standing next to the newly painted Groyne in South Shields. This icon on the south side of the River Tyne is somewhere I've known all my life. In fact I nearly lost my life here when the Esso Northumbria (at that time in 1969 the biggest ship ever built in Britain, as 1,143 feet in length and 126 thousand tonnes) went out of the Tyne on her maiden voyage only for the wash to flow over the Groyne pier and the massed on-lookers. Luckily we all became wet not lost at sea, Today the Tyne is much quieter and so we posed by the Groyne for a family portrait. Its not often the three of us get together so it was a nice moment just ambling up and down the prom, with Julie too. After this we ended up in the Harbour Lights pub, somewhere I'd not been for decades. An excellent lunch then home and into the car for the drive back south. Finally got home to Somerset at 9.30pm. A lovely, busy day.

September 7th 2014

Still up in the North East today, which was good as this allowed us to watch the Great North Run in South Shields. We managed to get a perfect place at the bottom of the Marsden Bank. Traffic was interesting getting there but we parked at the National Trust's Souter Lighthouse and walked the mile or so to this spot. Just in time as around 10 minutes after getting here the first of the ladies came through (wheelchairs had already started coming through). Julie had never seen the event before but it really is a spectacle worth seeing. After watching the women elite athletes, the men's elite athletes (including Mo Farra) we watched the main body of runners come through for about half an hour. Somewhere in this never ending stream of people would be Tracey Cramond who became the 1 millionth finisher of the Great North Run, a number no other half marathon has achieved to date. The runners watched, we walked back to Souter for a refreshing cup of tea,

September 6th 2014

The first Saturday in September has been for many a generation, the date for the Harbottle Show. This local country show has been a destination for me for many more years than I'd care to remember. I can't recall the first time here but I’d have been only shoulder height to a blackface sheep. Over the years I've come here and watched the sheepdog trials (now held later in the month), the children’s races and like today, a special wish of Julie's, to watch men in underpants wrestling. Okay this isn't quite true. I'm talking about Cumberland Wrestling. Sadly today after waiting for nearly two hours the wrestling was just juveniles and under 12 stone journeymen wrestlers in tracksuits. Why no long-john clad underpants wielding wrestlers today? Well last night there was a 'big event' down the valley at Rothbury. A qualifying event involving the best in Northern England took place at the Mart. Scheduled to finish at 10pm, apparently it ended at 5am in a lively fist fight between two locals.  That's the Coquet Valley for you. And so to placate Julie for this lack of brief encounter we wobbled up to Drake Stone, a huge erratic sandstone on top of the moors to stretch the legs. And that is an altogether another story. It’s nice up there. Silent and remote. I like.

September 5th 2014

A quick trip up north this weekend. As has become the norm now, the journey involves a detour of a few miles into the wonderful unspoilt town of Helmsley. There nestling within mellow Yorkshire stonework is the timber framed Black Swan Hotel. Stand and admire its beauty, maybe as I did today with you back to the sun feeling its warmth resting this travellers bones before casting eye right to the gable end. A Tearoom. And not just any tearoom, possibly the best we know of. As connoisseurs of caffeine and cake we travel the length nay breadth of Britain in search of a good cuppa. We always return here. Service excellent, tea brewed to perfection, cakes a-plenty and above all Yorkshire Hospitality.

Many tea-rooms come close, the Lavender Tearooms in Northumberland, Ethicurian in Somerset, Castle Gardens in Dorset, but to days, none match the Black Swan, so far. I guess then we'll just have to keep looking for a successor to this perfect Salon de The.

September 4th 2014

My left foot upon the pavement. In a theme from yesterday, for 20 years I have walked up and down this pavement. I remember these new slabs being lain about 6 years ago, before that old worn and cracked stepping stones. Oakfield Road has been my friend for 20 years, I know every house and car intimately. There's a 64 Reg mini cooper in one house - so far the only new car I've seen since September 1st.

In front of me here is the slope. Its not much of a slope but at night trudging up here after a long day it can feel like the Himalayas. Yet to the left is a lovely garden, minimalist but when they have the fountain on, a balm. Further down a lawned area is the first place I'll see spring bulbs, nestling shyly under a huge camellia.

Behind me is a day-nursery. In the morning this is all hustle and bustle as parents block the road and lob their offspring into the arms of strangers for 8 hours. The BBC is about 5 minutes walk away now, so........... best put my best foot forward then.