Category: countryside

countryside · crafts & knitting · foxes in my garden

On the cusp of spring

Julie (little Cotton Rabbits)17 Comments

 

This year it has felt like winter has lingered longer than usual, but there is at last a feeling of seasonal change here. Spring is definitely in the air, which has warmed appreciably from two weeks ago, when there were still traces of snow on the ground, showing up the tracks of Kit the fox all around the chicken run. On my walk today the touch of the breeze was pleasant rather than painful, with no need for bundling under woolly layers to keep out the chill and the bright sun was warming and very welcome. Although the woods are still wreathed in browns and greys and remain bare twigged, the leaf buds are starting to swell and it won’t be long until they burst open with joyous green.

Birdsong is building in the early mornings, which is a lovely way to greet the day and is usually started by high clear notes from the robin. The pigeons bill and coo along the length of the fence and the bluetits are darting to and from the nest box, not yet bringing in nesting material but definitely behaving like prospective buyers.

Spring feels especially welcome this year and I’m daydreaming about the longer days to come, picnics, knitting in the garden, wearing short-sleeves and enjoying the feel of the sun of bare skin. Winter hasn’t been all dull and dismal though, the skies have provided lots of splendid colour; whether it’s been tightly focused in the curve of a rainbow or splashed across the whole sky in technicolour sunsets. And there is always colour inside in my knitting bag. I’m working on lots of new patterns at the moment, cabled sweaters, new animals and a few other ideas are being played around with. As always I’ll keep you posted with more details once they’re all further along and ready to share.

Lastly there’s foxy news from the garden. Kit has had her third litter of cubs. We don’t know where her den is but it must be close by as she’s popping in daily for snacks. I knew that she was pregnant as I saw (and heard!) her mating in the early morning light on December 19th and throughout February she has grown obviously and progressively more bulbous around the middle. It’s most likely that the cubs were born between February 10th-14th as she didn’t come to visit at all on those days and when she arrived on the 15th she was no longer looking pregnant. It was the worst possible time of the year as Feb 10th was the coldest night for quite a few years with temperatures down to -7. I’m hoping that the cubs have all survived and are flourishing now the days are warmer and I’m wondering if we’ll get to meet them later in the spring once they’re old enough to venture out of the den. I shall make sure that I have my camera battery fully charged and ready, I’d love another morning like the one I had last year when Kit brought her cubs to visit for the first time 🙂

I hope there’s a little in your life right now to lift your spirits and that you have a good weekend ahead. See you soon xx

 

countryside · crafts & knitting · food and Drink

January: snow, mists and mizzle

Julie (little Cotton Rabbits)23 Comments

 

Hello again, I hope you’re well.

Sorry I’ve not been around – I’ve spent most of January in virtual hibernation and am feeling better for the little holiday from my usual daily routines and self-imposed working conditions 😉

I’m grateful that Toby has been able to return to school (he attends a severe learning difficulty school and they’ve been wonderful at keeping the pupils safe and providing essential routines to underpin the week) and without him to constantly supervise, my January weekdays have been quiet, unhurried and peaceful. There’s a feeling of stillness and sanctuary in our home and I’ve not really wanted to be anywhere else other than right here, which I am very grateful for since we are still in lockdown here in the UK and so cannot go anywhere anyway.

This time of year is usually melancholy, even in the best of years, but it’s feeling more so this year, and like many others I’ve never felt such a need to keep things simple, small and peaceful and to shut out the goings on in the news as much as is possible. Here in my little sanctuary of homeliness I’ve been listening to music, watching films and have given in to a growing and deep sense of nostalgia and bought a copy of The Wind in the Willows. Curling up under a blanket and reading myself into a world of whimsy and delight, far away from the fear and poison-filled news feeds has been a favourite part of my January days, especially on the few days when it has snowed here.

And of course there’s been knitting, though of the gentle, meandering kind rather than the focussed intensity of pattern writing. I’ve started projects, put them to one side and started another: lots and lots of animal heads (mostly knitted in Camarose Snefnug which is a new favourite); some mittens; a pair of socks and some crochet coasters – I pick each project up as the mood takes me and free my mind of any sense of deadline or purpose, and instead just enjoy the process of gentle making.

Toby and I are still enjoying our weekend wood walks, though we’re choosing to walk at dusk as it’s much quieter than earlier in the day when there are lots of famillies making noise and leaving litter and disturbing the peaceful air that we seek there. And I’ve been enjoying walking with my camera in the week, when I can take time to notice and observe the rhythm of nature. Most days I head out early, just after Toby goes off on the school bus and then the thought of breakfast waiting for me when I return makes me walk faster and I’m able to kid myself that this little extra speed balances out the calories in a buttermilk pancake topped with coconut yoghurt, blueberries and maple syrup 🙂

The woods are at their least enchanting at this time of year: the pathways clagged and clumped with mud and their margins tangled with soggy, dead bracken and mulching leaves; the overhead branches brown and bare and stark against the sky or shrouded in mists. There’s little of colour to enliven the scene, but knowing that spring flowers are busy under the earth, no longer dormant, but steadily and surely pushing up shoots from fat underground bulbs is a hopeful thought and there’s comfort in the wheel of the year inexorably turning.

As January draws to a close, I’m starting to focus on pattern writing again and have lots of ideas to shepherd into being. I’ll be back here on a more regular basis too, though long absences do interupt the rythym so I hope you’ll bear with me while I find my blogging feet again.

I hope that you’re doing OK and keeping well, I’ll leave you now with the quote that I’ve written at the start of my 2021 diary in the hope it will guide my thoughts over the coming year:

“If it’s out of your hands, it deserves freedom from your mind too” Ivan Nuru

 

 

countryside · in the woods

Autumn walks

Julie (little Cotton Rabbits)17 Comments

It’s that time of year again, when the autumn woods are calling me, and this year more than ever I’ve been craving the peace they hold beneath their branches. Throughout October I’ve wandered their pathways many times, ambling along at my own pace, scouting for interesting fungi, listening to the wind in the tops of the tall trees and the song of small birds hidden in the thickets and each time I can feel the accumulated tension seep from my body, down through my boot soles and away into the damp and springy earth below.

At other times of the year these walks would take me 45 minutes or so but in autumn, with so much to see, they can easily take me a couple of hours and inevitably end with me having wet muddy knees. As always I’m stumped by the names of many of these amazing fungi but then appreciating their magical beauty doesn’t require an understanding of their taxonomy. They’re each wonderfully unique and I’m always thrilled to discover and photograph each of them as I make my way through the wood. I hope you enjoy them too and that you’re finding your own small ways to navigate these anxious times that we find ourselves in xx

These pictures were taken across many walks in October 2020 at Broxbourne Common, Cowheath wood, Danemead, Brambles wood and Broad Riding wood.