The Green (3)

Whoever was it who decreed which plants count as flowers and which count as weeds?

Take the humble dandelion. Its leaves are great in salads; its dried root makes a coffee substitute. But best of all, it’s just so plain pretty and cheerful. I love dandelions!

The Green is lavishly scattered with them. Opening their faces to the sun each day, they create a proper Laura Ingalls type meadow. I can just imagine bouncing my way down its slope in a smocked frock, pigtails flying.

Dandelions can grow where they will so far as I’m concerned. They’re some of the cheeriest things on this earth. And that’s no small matter.

The Green (2)

There’s excitement in Dixon Hill land. The tawny owls I spotted last week are nesting on The Green.

The local tree surgeon found one of the babies lying on the ground the other day; so he picked it up and popped it back into the nest above - in the hollow of a tree trunk.

The next day, there was the hapless little owl again - back on the floor. Noticing that the nest was something of a tight squeeze, he surmised that its two bigger siblings were pushing it - the weakest of the three - out, so that they would have room to grow.

Fortunately, a local owl sanctuary has taken in the abandoned one; and the parents are assiduously feeding the bolshier two.

Which means they’re about the field all day, on the lookout for small rodents. And at night we fall asleep to their hooting.

The Green (1)

This is The Green. It’s the field behind our house.

It’s a lovely field; one that I walk through often. And I always appreciate its charms. But last week I got to know it more intimately.

I was poorly for a couple of days - some bug or other. It meant I couldn’t take Joss for his usual walks. So, instead, I wobbled the few steps from our door onto The Green several times each day. And hung about while Joss did the things that dogs have to do.

It’s amazing the difference that hanging about made. I began to see things I’d never noticed before. How wonderfully wonky and irregular the tiles on a nearby roof are; the buttercups hiding shyly amongst the dandelions; Cabbage White butterflies dancing in the sunshine.

Best of all, as dusk closed one night, I came upon a pair of tawny owls. One owl was perched on a telegraph wire spanning the field; the other was on a low tree branch just a couple of yards from my face. I’ve never before been so close to an owl in the wild. We stared at one another for what seemed like forever. Pure magic.

Feeling grotty is no fun; but I love the way that when our world temporarily shrinks, we’re forced to see familiar things in fresh ways; and to spot things which were there all along but which had gone unrecognised.

In the end, those two days of feeling rough turned out to be a real gift.

Joss' Delight

Joss, the dog, has a new obsession. The only things in his world better than hens are.....chicks!

The Hebridean lambs and their mothers have been moved to greener grazing; and, in their place, I now have charge of two tiny hens-in-the-making: one yellow, one black.

Joss is entranced. If allowed, he would spend 24 hours a day with his head hung over the edge of the cardboard box that’s currently their home, his ear brushing the heat lamp that’s keeping them warm.

I’d forgotten just how exquisite a sound these babies make; how incredibly soft their fluffy down; how chick yellow is the most appealing shade of yellow there is.

Checking on them regularly is our current joy. Thinking about them all the hours in between is making Joss a very happy dog indeed.

The Same View: May

It’s been a blue sky day. Barely a cloud to be seen. And tonight I heard the first cuckoo of spring.

This morning, as I took the photograph above, a small, brown moth danced about my feet. Across to my right, a pair of lapwings performed their extraordinary acrobatics, never more than a few inches apart.

Overhead a distant aeroplane droned lazily; and, when I bent to stroke Joss, his coat smelled of sunshine.

Best of all, the temperatures are apparently set to soar over the next few days. So - fingers crossed - the grass may soon be lush after all.

The leaves aren’t tardy in appearing on the trees, though. Notice how bushy they've all become?

Here’s a reminder of how the scene has changed since January.