A fine Spring day, a little sunshine, birdsong, no people. Bliss.
A chance to quietly observe and perhaps learn some of the secrets of Owl Wood because a woodland, no matter how small, always has secrets.
Mystery is always there.
There may be stillness and silence, then the sudden woosh of wind and the busy clack-rat-a-tat as the long skinny fingers of the tall trees tap out their messages. This is fine during daylight hours, however, should one old woman be making her way home from a committee meeting at the village hall on a cold dark night, those same clack-rat-a-tats sound much more creepy!
Today it was easy to see that the bare trees are active. Small buds of new foliage present and waiting for the signal to burst out in their glorious shades of green.
I am delighted to report that the snowdrops have had a good year, spreading ever wider. Primroses are dancing their way through some areas, especially near pet cemetery. Wild garlic is rampant and bluebells will soon be blooming. There are tiny aconites nestled cosily among the detritus on the woodland floor.
While I have been working out there this morning I have found even more violets, some shyly hiding around the roots of trees, while others have bravely dashed out into the open. Deep violet in both colour and scent.
Out along the roadside verge there are masses of white violets.
I picked a small number of each because once indoors it is much easier to tell whether they are truly scented. The violet-coloured ones are.
The violet is the county flower of Lincolnshire, which makes this tiny flower even more special in my eyes.
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While I was doing my Spring clean out there my attention was also caught by a stick which is sprouting the wonderfully bright fungus. Of course it was the bright daffodil yellow which made me stop my work to investigate. The fungus is slightly jelly/rubbery.
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Funny how the wood changes when the sun comes down. Or it seems to anyway.
ReplyDeleteYou've drawn a wonderful picture of Owl Wood. So many flowers, colours. Even the fungus gives pleasure. Well it's colour does
I had to stay indoors a lot of the earlier part of the week because I was looking after a poorly grandchild (now back at school). It was good to have the opportunity to get back out into the fresh air. I may have lingered a little longer than strictly necessary!
DeleteLoving the header picture...makes me want to look through that window!
ReplyDeletePeep through the window and you will see into the home the family of fairies who live in Owl Wood.
Delete(It is a page I painted in my Owl Wood Journal and tells part of a story I made up for my grandchildren after we discovered a 'real' fairy door in one of the trees. ;)
I so envy you your violets!
ReplyDeleteI would be more than happy to share them with you. Just say the word.
DeleteI have violets growing in my garden in the grass. The perfume of real violets is something never forgotten and takes me back to childhood. I could smell them before I saw them.
ReplyDeleteA beautiful flower is only half a flower (for me) unless it has the perfume that goes with it! I know I am picky. It is really magical when a smell can waft you back through time to childhood. Were they on the farm?
DeleteWe had real violets on the farm which mum cherished and kept the farm tractors away from them and other things and now where I live in another old farmhouse my garden is the former stackyard and grows wild flowers.
DeleteA nice connection. Your old farmhouse and gardens sound very special. A gem of a house enjoyed for what it is, and for what it has been, and not turned into some modernised nightmare.x
DeleteThat tiny pitcher is as charming as the violets its holds.
ReplyDeleteYou are right, it is tiny, Joanne. I bought it for just a few pence, for a fairies tea party!
DeleteWhat a wonderful description of Owl Wood. Thank you.
ReplyDeleteOwl Wood continues to give us so much pleasure, Susan...it also means that plenty of exercise is taken in keeping it safe and maintained, so well worth the effort.
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