A Picnic for Samuel Whiskers

We had a crisp white frost this morning. By lunchtime, the ice had thawed but the air was bitterly cold and garden birds were hungry. I made a Bird Pudding from soaked wholemeal bread, currants and sunflower seeds and I stirred in the last crumbs of a Christmas Wensleydale cheese.

The peanut holder and the fat basket were busy all morning, feeding hungry blue tits and long tailed tits. A greater spotted woodpecker and a pair of nuthatches visited, but stayed away when I had time to wait with the camera.

Bird Pudding......

...and a long tailed tit arriving for lunch.

Two shy brown dunnocks waited around on the stems of the old climbing rose.......

....until one of them found seed and scraps on the ground beneath the bird table.

The cats were watching through the window. Suddenly, Lucy`s ears shot forwards and her whiskers began to vibrate. With body tense, she watched something climbing down a thick old rose stem.

Making his way past the fat balls and down towards the bird table was the reason we have recently heard scuffling and small footsteps in the space between the upstairs floorboards.

Mr Samuel Whiskers and his wife, Anna Maria, have come to stay!

The two sleek young rats climbed down and feasted on Bird Pudding. Each time I tried to photograph them , they moved, quick as a flash..... I need a more sophisticated camera with a faster shutter speed, but I don`t need rats in the attic!

Here you can see the plump, thick-coated abdomen of Samuel Whiskers. He and his grey mate are two beautiful young creatures. Their intelligence and their pair bonding behaviour are fascinating to watch. How we are going to move them on to pastures new is another matter. Maybe Lucy and the Ginger Man will take matters into their own paws?

I don`t think that Forest Cat will bother to go outside and help them.......

Quiet January Morning

This morning was mild and still. No wind blew and the rainfall of last week had drained away, leaving the Forest dry again. Under the tall hedge of holly trees, a group of ponies came to browse on the lowest branches.

Through a path where gorse bushes are flowering again.....

...and through lichen covered branches, I caught sight of an old bay mare, dozing.......

.....while Spice, her friend, was breakfasting on tender young gorse shoots.

Back in the yard, Spice`s younger brother, Woody, had his hooves trimmed by the farrier........

....and breakfast was served while they worked.

Out of the Wind

Gales blew in across the Forest today and whipped the trees into a frenzy. As I pushed against the wind to cross the fields, carpets of fallen brown leaves lifted into the rushing air. Hay refused to stay in neat piles and scattered across the grass. Hungry ponies had to work for their breakfast, following rolling wisps of hay until they caught up in the twigs of a boundary hedge. An old, dying blackthorn tree had cracked in the night and now lies, half broken , across a fence , waiting for its final journey to the bonfire pile.

As soon as I could, I gratefully came indoors. The sound of the wind rushing through bare branches and the rattle of roof tiles made an unnerving background to the hours. I spent several hours sorting out cupboards. A job I do not relish but something useful for a day not designed for outside things.

The dogs had the quickest of walks today. A brisk trot up to the heath for Old Dog. There were too many creaking tree branches in the lane to venture far.

The cats chose to stay inside. Lucy played chase with her catnip mouse but then decided to investigate a sweeter smell from the top of a bookcase.

All day the wind roared across the fields. It was a relief that the tall and spindly eucalyptus was no nearer to the house as it thrashed and swayed violently from left to right, hissing its silver leaves across the crazy sky.

A Stormy Walk at Hengistbury Head

Today, January 2nd, was a Bank Holiday in England. An extra day off for many people, before they return to work after the Christmas and New Year festivities. When the day dawned clear and fine, we decided to drive down to the sea for a walk. We felt a need for the brightness of the sea after days of dull, grey cloud and hours of heavy rain.

Hengistbury Head is a hill of sandstone that forms the southern promontory of Poole Bay. On one side of the Head is the sheltered water of Christchurch Harbour, where the Rivers Avon and Stour meet to flow into the sea. The other side of Hengistbury Head is buffeted by winds and waves on the open sea.

We walked southwards along the lane that borders Christchurch Harbour. The bulk of the headland shielded us from the worst of the cold wind. It was a perfect afternoon for a brisk, invigorating walk. It seemed as though half the population of Bournemouth had the same idea as us. I have never seen the usually peaceful lane so crowded with families, dogs and children trying out new bicycles and scooters after Christmas!

Warren Hill, the sandy headland of Hengistbury Head.

Across harbour waters to The Run at Mudeford, where the water of two rivers rushes through a narrow gap into the open sea.

The traditional Noddy Trains were plying their way backwards and forwards along the harbourside lane. For local children, a ride home on the Noddy Train is a great incentive for a good walk down to the beach.

A new cattle pound and a crush have been built beside the meadows in the lee of the hill. A small herd of Shetland Cattle are being employed as conservation grazers , to try to retain the specialised salt meadow flora of this grassland.

The lane is a safe place for new Christmas bicycles and scooters to be put through their paces!

On the sheltered harbour mudflats, small wading birds gathered to feed.

A smart Mudeford Beach Hut, complete with solar panel.

A fenced-off area of fresh water pond and bog, where Natterjack Toads are said to breed.

Climbing up the hill onto the Head, we looked back along the line of beach huts on Mudeford Spit. The beach was thronged with people and dogs, all enjoying the wilder wind and a fine stretch of sand.

Away from the wind, a sheltered copse of mixed woodland is home to native birds and a welcome place to rest for migrating flocks.

The steps to the top....

...and views of the wild sea below the Head, where storm clouds were gathering over the English Channel. White horse waves leapt across from the west and breakers crashed against stone groynes.

At the western edge of the Isle of Wight, the chalk Needles jut out into the Channel.

Incoming storm clouds over the Purbeck Hills, across Poole Bay.

The flooded Victorian ironstone quarry on the top of Hengistbury Head.

"Precipitation within sight..." over the suburbs of Bournemouth.

Across the sea to Swanage Bay.

Christchurch and St Catherine`s Hill under threatening cloud.

Crashing surf, sizzling and rushing up the sand of Southbourne Beach.

We were buffeted by freezing winds as we walked down the path, between gorse bush and maram grass, towards the beach.

Sun, yellow sky and storm clouds over Poole Bay.

Eroded sandstone by the path.

A last look at wild skies and seas, just before sunset, and just before rain and hailstones pelted down from grey winter clouds and sent us rushing across the grass, inland and towards shelter.