We keep trying to get one more barefoot adventure in before ‘the long night’ of winter. Sat we went for a marsh romp before the torrents of rain that came later in the afternoon. It was glorious.
We went to check on Snipe on her mooring out in the harbour.
After that we carried on down to Moorston and picked up the coast path home. Always a great way to tour the place and miss the crowds.
We feel quite lucky to get to know the area from top to bottom this way. The only thing missing was our sad Labrador who had to stay home to keep his stitches clean. Oh well, there is always next time.
Start of Summer
This is the time of year when ‘firsts’ and favourites come thick and fast and it is easy to forget to be mindful and take it all for granted. The Japanese natural calendar marks this past season as ‘the beginning of summer’. Britain’s calendar keeps this until the Solstice at the end of June but I am going with now! Maybe I am just impatient. Maybe it is the harbour walks barefoot and the year’s first swim that convince me that it’s close enough.
In the courtyard the large frogs have been joined by a multitude of tiny frogs. I celebrate them for eating the slugs! The last of the tulips are fading and give way to the plethora of summer. I can see the first heads of allium waiting to take their place.
Out in the larger gardens the lilacs are in flower followed closely by the never to be out done laburnums. The elderflower a are only just starting but we await them eagerly to start preserving. Even the horse chestnuts are in flower. Their stately blooms remind me of the queen’s hat perched on the grand dame’s head.
In the wild the Night Jars curr on the heath and look out for the Montagu’s Harrier, they are a rare special sight these days.
On the allotment things are coming on by leaps and bounds the last two weeks, especially the weeds! In the cutting garden things have diversified from tulips only to ranunculus, white verbascum, iris, cerinthe, and red scabious.
We also spent a long Saturday digging over and building a windbreak for the tomatoes. We think it looks whimsical using scavenged marsh drift wood to keep costs down. Very pleased to keep things super-local. And super-economical!
Sharrington strawberries are out! And asparagus! The first true seasonal specialties! What a treat. Can’t wait for our own strawberries to ripen. Well, here’s to the start of the summer season!
We were nearly at Morston, gliding through the creeks from Blakeney, when George spotted it: a luminescent white green arc where the bows of my kayak slid through the water. Suddenly it was all around us. Every paddle stroke and every droplet of water sparkled with glowing phosphoresence.
We could send sparkles shooting from our finger tips simply by flicking water with our hands. There is, no doubt, a scientific explanation for all this, but on a still, warm September night – when the harbour was a black mirror filled with reflected stars and our boats glowed with the water’s soft green fire – I am content to believe in a little magic.
The extraordinary phenomenon stayed with us the whole journey, through the creeks and out into the open harbour as we circled back to Blakeney. It must be seen to be believed, but perhaps it is best equated as a Northern Lights of the sea?