Monday 25th August 2014

Sunday.

Ah, bathing the afterglow of another triumph against the old enemy down the A140. As we have so far failed to det the TV to save v programs we had to watch stuff live. I mention this as Sundays are now made for football, what with the re-runs of MOTD and the football league show. And having been relegated it means that City are now on the latter and so even later on a Saturday evening. At least the BBC have scheduled the shows to run back to back on Sundays too, which meant that despite waking up at seven, we could not head out of the house until MOTD had been watched and the the highlights of the Old Farm game o n the footy league show. And despite the twitterverse having been full of disgruntled dirty horses claiming the goal was offside, the replay showed a defender on the line and the goal perfect. Perfect for us, anyway.



Once the game had been shown, we got our act together and put on our walking boots and headed out the door with the plan to 'go out for a walk'. More than that, maybe head to the cliffs and on the way pick some elderberries and maybe some sloes if there were ripe enough. It was a cool morning, but warming up nicely, so we walked down the lane at the end of the street, past the butterfly glade, past the pig's copse, now empty of the piglets, as it would appear their truck left for either market or the slaughterhouse during the week. The glade is now all quiet. Down the dip and up the otherside, stop at the friendly horse to rub his mane and feed hi some fresh grass from the verge.



Up over the fields, between now harvested and ploughed fields to the butterfly alley, which was almost butterfly free. Up the final climb to the cliffs and Bluebirds. After taking in the view, we take a table outside and order coffee and a slice of coffee and walnut cake, which hit the spot.

Jools decided to head back via the village so she could look at how the wild apples were coming along, and I decided to head up the coast to Kingsdown to look for butterflies. As is the case at this time of the year, the coastal path was heaving with people,many of whom seem to be there without actually looking at the wonderful landscapes or the wildlife under their very feet. Anyway, I make it to Kingsdown, find no evidence of Long Tailed Blues, not even any flattened grass caused by dozens of photographers as per least year. In fact there were very few butterflies at all, no Chalkhills and no Adonis either. Just a few Small Blues and a single Wall. I did see a mating pair of dragonflies, so watched were they landed and got some fine shots as they were locked in a mating wheel. They did not try to fly off as they had other things on their mind. Apparently.



I walked back by a much quieter route, and at butterfly alley I harvested a lot of the elderberries, and along the paths home, stopped to pick more, until I had a good couple of pounds. It was now near one and the day was very warm indeed, and my legs were beginning to complain. The final stretch is down the steeper side of the dip and up the other side, past the pig's copse and the butterfly glade and on to home.

Once home Jools was waiting outside sipping iced squash. I joined her, until the draw of checking on my shots was too strong and I headed inside to power up the new computer.

The football on the radio burbled away, we had a late lunch of more pasta salad and fried aubergine washed down with a large bottle of Leffe Nectar. Which, needless to say, resulted in me feeling the need to lay on the sofa and promptly fall asleep as the radio reported on the Sunderland v Man Utd game. And in this way the afternoon passed from afternoon to evening, where we carried on the Kate Bush fest by playing Hounds of Love (again), The Sensual World, The Red Shoes and This Woman's Work.