Wintergarden

[puddleshark]

***

A quiet morning out in the forest, not even the robins singing. Grey. Chill. 2 degrees C. Small flakes of snow on the wind, not settling.

Following the path through the old pines, the Groaning Pine - the one that likes to unsettle me with unexplained noises when I am out walking before dawn - was complaining again, though the wind did not seem strong.

And, for thou wast a spirit too delicate
To act her earthy and abhorr'd commands,
Refusing her grand hests, she did confine thee,
By help of her more potent ministers
And in her most unmitigable rage,
Into a cloven pine; within which rift
Imprison'd thou didst painfully remain
A dozen years; within which space she died
And left thee there; where thou didst vent thy groans
As fast as mill-wheels strike...

Winter must be here: the lurchers are wearing thick padded coats and the postman is wearing shorts.

***

Optician's appointment this morning. I need a stronger prescription, but since I don't wear varifocals - just can't get on with the dratted things - it will only be a new pair of distance specs, which will keep the expense down.

The assistant tried to persuade me to choose a pair of blingy frames - "Look, sparkly!" - and I may have recoiled slightly in horror. I don't do sparkly.

***

Afterwards, through the sleet, drove over to Holme to buy some bags of compost, some birthday cards, a few small Christmas gifts. The electricity company was carrying out work in the area, and the garden centre had only back-up power from a generator, so there wasn't much light in the shop, and the tills were not working. One shop assistant read out the codes for my purchases and the prices, while another shop assistant wrote them down, and worked out the total using a calculator.

Did a quick detour into the gardens, which were bleak and cold and wintry. Quite a few areas roped off for works. The gardens grow in popularity each year, and the grass paths are too fragile to cope with visitor numbers now. They are having to lay gravel.

A season ticket for next year has gone up to £30, another sign of the garden's increasing popularity.

Comments

[heleninwales]

What a lovely garden. There are still beautiful things there, even at this bleak time of year.

[puddleshark]

The crab apple trees are still putting on a terrific display.

And I'm not always a big fan of ornamental grasses, but they do look lovely at this time of year. Bleak, but lovely.

[stormehowl]

"groaning pine" is such a cool name. Beautiful late autumn captures.

[puddleshark]

Thanks!

It is a very communicative pine. On stormy days, it usually makes me jump out of my skin by suddenly knocking together branches, or groaning like a stag, just as I'm passing below it, in the pitch darkness of a winter morning.