Winter Comes But Once a Year

It has been sometime since last I wrote as I’ve had one of the largest doses of writers block possible. Paper notes seem to have been easy to do, but get me in front of a keyboard and everything would seize up. So now some miles down the road and way behind the times, I’ve now got no idea what bits to write about and which to leave out; which to combine to make single entries and which to make individual events by themselves. Or whether just to abandon all these notes from the past and begin again with the present. Currently as I’m recovering from an operation I’ll have some fun with at least some of the notes from the past, whatever this will be an adventure for all of us and if nothing else I hope that the outcome is interesting and enjoyable.

Heading back to last December this entry comes from the 21 December 2013 and possibly a most suitable topic for what was the first day of winter as it covers the subject of snow.

Standing looking out the door on the evening of this first day of winter, and looking at the recent arrival of snow it seemed a suitable way to welcome the new season in. On this evening it quickly covered the darkened landscape with a soft blanket. It gently rubbed out the limited humps and bumps that showed in the light of the open door and at least temporarily covered the sad remains of last summers vegetation. The snow on this night was perfect for this task. The flakes were large and wet, almost clumping together into large globules as it fell from the sky, but even with this clumpy nature they still managed to float slowly down through the atmosphere, like downy feathers caught on odd currents of air. The snow flakes as they approached the ground then grabbed hold of and coat any available surface.

The twisted branches of the Contorted Hazel made a perfect surface to be coated and soon formed a sort of weird and wonderful modern snow sculpture of twisting columns. While the remaining leaves that still clung to the Buddleja produced large flat surfaces that soon became platelets of snow that slowly drooped under the additional weight, and formed miniature avalanches as the snow lost traction and slid off.

Strange Sculptures – 21 December 2013 (Copyright Carol Jones)

As these large flakes floated slowly down through the sky and blanket the surrounding world, the thought that came to mind that this could be the beginning of a long cold white coated winter. Obviously though the weather had other ideas for this blanket of snow was not to last any longer than a single night for by the morning all was gone and the scene was just a sodden damp affair. At least here, this was the only snow of the winter, just once in a while I would hear rumours of this white stuff on higher hills in the Scottish Borders, but for this low level valley the rest of the winter was remarkably warm, with even heavy frosts countable on the fingers of a single hand.

The Brightest Star of the Evening

Continuing the catch up with more on an astronomical theme – this one is from 05 December 2013.

In my previous entry I wrote about the wonders of sunsets and seeing Venus shine in the evening sky, at that stage I thought that was the best that Venus could get. A bright star within a darkening sky, but how mistaken was I?! A few days after this, Venus began to coincide with the rising of the moon and on this evening, with a sky that was clear apart from a few light smudges of remaining cloud that caught and reflected the dying oranges of the sunset, the moon and Venus were the brightest objects in the sky. Standing bright and clear, dominating the evening sky long before any of the other stars could be seen.

The Dying Rays of the Sun – 05 December 2013 (Copyright Carol Jones)

It was sometime later that I discovered that on the nights of the 05 and 06 December that I was seeing Venus at its brightest for this apparition. In fact at this point in time it was the third brightest object in the sky, after the sun and moon. Certainly on this evening the moon and Venus dominated the twilight skies, leading the way towards night.

The Moon and Venus – 05 December 2013 (Copyright Carol Jones)

Star of the Evening

Continuing the catch up with another astronomical themed blog – this one from 28 November 2013.

So far I’ve been writing about the morning skies in November, but they weren’t the only things that have been bright and amazing. The evening skies have also had there moments, less so on the grand scale of colour and dramatics but still something to behold.

Over the evenings towards the end of November, the sky has had its moments, while the sun had been setting the sky has been lit by a single bright star, visible long before any of the other stars are visible. Though really this sighting is not actually a star, but the planet Venus, which shone like a bright pin-prick of light, highlighting the darkening skies of night.

Star of the Evening – 28 November 2013 (Copyright Carol Jones)

On this evening, Venus shone out from a darkening sky that had been coloured with a rich warming glow of the setting sun. The last rays of the evening sun made the clouds present seem almost black and whereas the surrounding sky was alight with fiery oranges. As the sun sank lower, the remaining rays of light painted the base of the clouds with rich warm oranges, warmer and darker than those of the morning. Then out from this darkening sky, like a single headlight shining out of the darkness to light the way towards the night, shines the Star of the Evening.

Venus – 28 November 2013 (Copyright Carol Jones)

Pillars in the Sky

Continuing on the theme of sunrises – this is one of the most special I have seen yet and dates from the 25 November 2013.

Most of the sunrises I see are sheets of colour painted across the sky in a grand scale, using large brushes and vibrant colours, but this one was something different. This one was far more delicate beginning with a pale orange watercolour wash across the horizon. As the sun rose the orange wash spread out across the still night darkened sky, like the slow but inevitable movement of the tide up a beach. Out of this advancing colour, just as the sun broke the horizon, there was what could only be described as someone turning on a powerful arc light that was pointed straight up into the sky, producing a distinct pillar of glowing light. Wow! There was something amazing about it, it looked so much like an actual arc light, but the size and the quality of light just wasn’t right and meant that it could not be man made, it had to be natural. At the same time the new sunlight also highlighted some thin wisps of clouds that wafted across the morning sky, in particular catching the remnants of several aircraft vapour trails and making them shine almost like silver.

Sun Pillar – 25 November 2013 (Copyright Carol Jones)

Later investigation showed that this arc light was the rare phenomenon called a sun pillar. Sun pillars are the combined reflection of sunlight from millions of horizontal ice crystals in the atmosphere and these collective glints form what seems to be a pillar of light.

Flaming Skies

Time seems to have flown and blogs seem to have been thin on the ground. Recently been looking back at some notes and found this which covers the sightings from a number of mornings through November 2013.

November is usually remembered as being a dark and dank month but not last year, in 2013 November was a month of blue skies and bright sunshine, accompanying such wonderful days there were a number of wonderful sunrises. One of the good things about sunrises in November is that they occur at sensible times of the day and can be easily observed without very early rises.

The sunrises of note during November were variations on a theme of fiery reds. It was as though the skies were temporarily painted from a pallet dominated by oranges and reds, ranging from the palest which could almost have been a figment of the imagination through to the rich and vibrant, colour that hit you directly in the face and took no prisoners. The description that follows is just one sunrise that occurred on the 13 November 2013, but all the colourful ones from this period of time, though each original would follow this common theme of reds and oranges.

Flaming Scarlet Skies – 13 November 2013 (Copyright Carol Jones)

As the new light of day, pushed over the surrounding hills and began to burn the dark of night away, the sky began to lighten and colour beginning gently with the palest shades of orange, tingeing the edges of the few clouds available. As time moved on the oranges become brighter and warmer producing a mass of colour, all in varying shades of orange and all wonderfully warm. No time to linger and contemplate for the scene did not stand still, it continued to develop with every passing second. Soon the oranges began to brighten again, as though the sky had caught fire and the heavens had begun to glow, like the coals in the grate of our fire. Throughout this phase of the sunrise the oranges continued to brighten, becoming redder and more much more scarlet in nature. At the height of the display the sky took on a burning scarlet, rich and vibrant in nature, and almost radiating heat on what was a cold and chilly morning. However, this vibrancy and warmth did not last long and soon burnt out, so that the sky passed rapidly from flaming scarlet to a cooler cherry red, which soon began to fade to leave just the odd remnant of colour to tinge the edge of the morning clouds.

Fading Glories – 13 November 2013 (Copyright Carol Jones)

November’s wonderful sunrises were not as common as to occur every day or even necessarily every few days, but they were common enough to be remembered for their amazing displays of colours. Its strange, as many times as I see these amazing morning displays, each is unique and original, and with each I have that feeling of wonder that there may still be a bright, fresh new world out there waiting to be discovered.

 

Greens that Shine into Autumn

Continuing into autumn with a blog dating from a visit taken on the 06 October 2013.

Took a walk up a small hill (or maybe hillock is a better term) called Muirhouselaw, at the start of October, a hill which is found to the south east of the Eildons and from where they stand out like pimples in the flat surrounds. On this day, which was one of those dull autumn days when the sky was grey, the clouds seem to sit as though they had been loaded with lead. The clouds were not so low as to hide the hill tops, but low enough so as to sit like a distinctive layer in the sky, grey and heavy with much promise of more to come.

The Eildons – 06 October 2013 (Copyright Carol Jones)

Currently the surroundings where set against this dull grey but this brought the greens into full focus, it made them bright especially the improved grassland just in front of where we were standing, which seemed to glow in the gloom. Below even the old greens of the wooded strips that disappear towards the Eildons looked bright and were highlighted by the occasional patch of autumnal gold that was just beginning to appear in the odd tree here and there. Then between the strips of green even the brown of the freshly ploughed fields have begun to shoot away to produce a new sheen of fresh new green.

Peniel Heugh – 06 October 2013 (Copyright Carol Jones)

Spider’s Jewels

Heading from summer to autumn, this is the first blog from the autumn and dates from 28 September 2013.

After a long hot summer I knew that autumn had finally arrived when the morning’s dew remained captured on the delicate filaments of the Spider webs well into the following morning, rather than disappearing at first light. Overnight the Spiders had been working hard in our hedge, to make the top surface a bejewelled carpet of webs, scattered like a fine gossamer blanket that had been snagged by the upright shoots of the hedge when blown in the wind.

Spider Webs – 28 September 2013 (Copyright Carol Jones)

In the morning sunlight the fine threads were covered with an amazing array of tiny droplets of dew, it was as though someone had been out all night threading tiny iridescent beads onto the threads. In the morning sunshine each of these beads then reflected the sunlight in all directions, producing an array of tiny rainbows. A temporary but very beautiful effect that didn’t last long, for even this late in the year the morning dew does not last forever and the strength of the autumn sun soon evaporated them.

A Spider’s Web Covered in Iridescent Beads – 28 September 2013 (Copyright Carol Jones)

Stranger in a Strange Land – Part 2

Continuing the memories from the summer – with this second catch up from the 14 September 2013.

At the beginning of the previous blog I said I had been studying a couple of strange plants at the allotment, the second of these plants was hiding amongst the Celeriac. By the time I found this plant at the end of July it was about a foot tall and never really grew much taller than this. As with the Apple of Peru this plant had slightly lobed, diamond shaped leaves, but with out any purple colouring, above which were several cream trumpet shaped blooms. By the time I found this plant the central flower had already gone and a seed was forming at the top of the stem, a distinctively prickly seed that looked like it was going to form a bur of some sort. As for the identification – not so difficult this time as I’ve seen flowers like this before on greenhouse plants called Angel Trumpets, so I soon tied this plant down to Thorn Apple.

Thorn Apple – 17 August 2013 (Copyright Carol Jones)

I suspect that this is another plant that I shouldn’t have left in the allotment, especially as it was a poisonous plant amongst the edible crop of Celeriacs, but the delicate cream trumpets were very pretty and the bur covered seed pod in the centre of the plant was fascinating. This seed pod over the weeks from summer into autumn grew in size and by September had reached a size, that made the plant look like a matchstick man with the leaves forming the arms and the main stalk the legs, with the bur as the head. This plant also fascinated a number of the other allotment holders who also agreed with me that it looked like a matchstick man.

Ripening Seed Head – 13 September 2013 (Copyright Carol Jones)

As the summer ends this seed pod has continued to grow and finally begun to brown and ripen. I know that before the plant had got to the stage of having ripe seeds, I should really have removed it and deposited it on the compost heap, especially as the RHS web site says that the seeds can live for a number of years in the soil. All I can say was that I was totally fascinated by its development, it was almost as if it was animal rather than plant. It felt like I was totally hypnotised! Well thank heaven its not a Trifid and I’ve a trusty hoe that will keep it’s progeny under control.

The Never Ending Song

More on changing seasons – this catch up is from the 05 September 2013.

As the long days of summer headed into the shorter days of autumn, Blackpool Moss has remained green and bright but now it is separated from the more scruffy surroundings  as a strip of hay has been taken from around the moss, making it look as though the site has been tied up with a neat browning ribbon. Even so the greens of the moss have begun to gain a yellowish tinge and the summer polka dot pattern of colours has now decreased to just the occasional spot, most noticeable of which were the mauve heads of the Devil’s-bit Scabious and the odd white Sneezewort head.

Blackpool Moss – 05 September 2013 (Copyright Carol Jones)

The end of summer and the beginning of autumn is a strange time when the colourful beauties of summer have faded, but the wonders of autumn have yet to bloom, even so there are still sights to be seen. For me this day’s eye catching splendour comes in the form of the ever moving and richly coloured heads of the Common Reed. By September their inflorescences have a shine that is rich and luxurious purple in the day’s sunshine and by now they are also highlighted with the odd patch of white, formed as the seeds within the heads begin to ripen. In the breeze, that on Blackpool Moss blows almost continuously, the tall stalks sway backwards and forwards, as though pulled hither and thither by an invisible force, and this breeze makes the rich purples shimmer and shine, as the light catches the shine first from one angle and then another. On this day though, this continual movement made the heads an almost impossible feature to capture with any sort of satisfaction within a picture, as the movement was making it impossible to focus on all aspects and too much of the picture remained as a fuzzy mess. Still though the sight of this continual movement intrigued and fascinated, as the Reeds continued there strange dance to that never ending, but unheard song.

Fading Towards Autumn

Catch up – this time with the changing seasons dating from the 04 September 2013.

After a long summer of sunshine and heat, the vegetation of the Scottish Borders was beginning to tell a tale of hard times and had a distinctive look of tiredness to it. An evening wander round Lindean Reservoir didn’t tell a different tale, but highlighted the changes that were going on all around. Here the grasslands had changed from the various greens of summer that were spotted with masses of colours to a scene of varying browns with just one or two spots of colour from the remaining late summer flowers. These colours came from a few Knapweed flowers that produced splashes of purples accompanied by the occasional white inflorescence from Sneezewort and Yarrow. Just a few examples remaining to remind us of the glories of the summer that had begun to fade and head towards the changes of autumn.

The glories of the autumn that was coming, were already visible in some of the surrounding trees. The leaves of a number had already begun to change from the dark greens associated with summer to the browns and oranges of autumn. Furthest advanced were those of the Rowan, who were already well on the way to an autumnal paper brown, a colour that was highlighted by a heavy crop of bright orange-red berries, so that each tree was like a beacon of orange against the tired greens and browns of the grasses.

The Setting Sun Across Lindean Reservoir – 04 September 2013 (Copyright Carol Jones)

As I’ve mentioned before the approach of autumn means that sunsets become much more accessible as they come at sensible times in the evening, and my early September trip to Lindean Reservoir was not to disappoint on this front. As the sun continued its journey towards the horizon, the final rays of the days sunlight caught touches of cloud that were sitting just above the horizon and began to warm them into a gentle orange. As the sun dropped lower in the sky the clouds began to thicken and the reds continued to warm into a fiery blaze, changing into a cauldron of colour so that the clouds looked as though they had caught fire and were ablaze in the heavens, before fading rapidly into the darkness of night.

The Cauldron of Fire Above the Three Brethren – 04 September 2013 (Copyright Carol Jones)