Blue Sky Weekend

It’s been a gorgeous weekend here in Dixon Hill land.  Sunny and mild with big blue skies.

Joss and I took advantage of the loveliness and have spent long hours on the moors.  He’s fished and paddled in the ponds; I’ve filled my camera with autumn goodness.

The forecast says we revert to rain tomorrow; and the temperature is set to plummet.  So we’re treasuring our two days of sunshine….and storing up the memories….

Tupping Time

Meet two of our local thugs.  Well, they look pretty thuggish to me, anyway.  (Actually, I call them Tweedledum and Tweedledee, which kind of diminishes their thuggishness.)

They’re tups (rams).  And this is the start of tupping time - when the boys get to run amok in fields full of lady sheep.

As you can see, they’re are all strapped up for the job.  If you’re unfamiliar with this protocol, the strapping is holding in place bright blocks of dye.  See them?  Slung under their bellies?  Green on the left tup, red on the right.

When one of the gents graces a particular lady with his favour, some of the dye rubs off on her back….and the farmer can tell which of his ewes has been tupped and which are still waiting their turn.

Nifty, huh?

What’s Your Story?

Tramping about the moors with Joss the dog, I do run into some interesting people.

Like the grandfather who conducts Native American ceremonies on a big rock overlooking the valley.  And the artist who let me thumb through her sketchbooks.

There was the photographer who specialises in shooting grand prix racing and model aeroplanes.  And the man who is an expert on prehistoric rock art.

Most recently, there was the writer who had been shortlisted in a story competition, and who was floating somewhere above me on Cloud Nine.

Of course, everyone is interesting in some way.  And everyone has a story to tell.

So….what’s yours?

The Golden Hour

This is the time of year for great sunset pictures.  (When it’s not raining cats and dogs, that is.)

Of course, the sun sets every night.  So, in theory, any night of the year is a golden photo opportunity.

But these are the weeks when the dying sun coincides with my evening walk.  And thus when the golden hour most frequently finds its way into my camera.

Besides, it feels particularly good to capture the light right now.  It’s like bottling it to see us through the long dark nights of winter.

The Wolf

Once a month, the ladies who walk go walking - regardless of the weather*. 

And so today we walked.  Walked through driving rain….walked through gale force winds….walked through a hailstorm (yes, hail!!!).  

We clambered up over the moor until we came to The Wolf - the wondrous tangle of twigs you see above.  Apparently, from down in the valley, they resemble a wolf.  Not so much from this angle - except, if he is one, he appears to be on his side….which sort of implies he’s injured and that upsets me.

Anyway, after taking a quick snap of the twiggy sculpture, we dripped and slithered and shivered our way back down the hill.  Calling ourselves crazy the whole way.  And leaving the poor wolf to his fate.

*(except when they wimp out….but that‘s a different story!)