bunn: (Wild Garden)
I can't find my walking boots so ended up walking in socks and crocs and getting my feet soaked by dew in the long grass. A less unpleasant experience in the heat than it would be usually.

Incredibly loud liquid warblings from the hedge, produced by a very tiny wren that looked as if it should not possibly be able to produce such a mighty song.

A very tiny rabbit, poised in front of me in a gateway, staring into the shadow where I and the dogs stood with that innocence that very young rabbits have, limned with bright sunlight, with its long delicate ears glowing red with the sun behind it. It stood there for a very long moment, till Brythen snapped at a fly and it suddenly realised we might be dangerous and fled madly into the long grass, huge back feet flying, appearing not entirely under conscious control.
bunn: (dog knotwork)
An older woman, her face surrounded by a dramatic grey curly bush of wild hair, wearing a smart dark red velvet trouser suit with a tailored jacket,  stomping enthusiastically on top of a fiercely-smoking bonfire.

I hope she's not going to have to try to get the smoke out of the velvet later.   But it was such an odd thing to wear for the task, I am guessing there is some special significance to it.  Perhaps she will take off the velvet suit, once all the other things are burned, and ritually burn that too.
bunn: (Logres)
I was walking past the Clitters mine this evening, having vetoed the dogs' suggestion that we go into the mine and through the woods, on the grounds that the sun had set and the mix of afterglow and half-moonlight was not bright enough for slippery woodland paths. From the road, I could hear people in the woods: clearly someone was more intrepid than me.

The people came out of the mine just before I got to the gate. They were four young men, one of them holding a guitar. They came out onto the road, joking and giggling, and set off, four abreast right across the road, silhouetted against the moonlight. The one with the guitar was playing and the rest were singing along, quite tunefully between outbursts of laughter as they walked.

Rosie thought they were terrifying, but Brythen thought they were wonderful.
bunn: (Kettlehat)
Seen this morning : three magnificent grey cobs, each one about as wide as tall, with huge curvy hindquarters and wide flaring nostrils and proud curving necks, the feathers on their fetlocks and their long manes rippling majestically.  On top of the three horses, three equally magnificently curvy ladies, with huge rounded backsides precariously crammed into tight jodhpurs, cheery apple cheeks and ample bosoms bouncing to the rhythm of the hooves.   It was a spectacular symphony in generous curves.

This afternoon:  cleared and partially repainted the utility room, then follow-up homecheck for an Oldies Club dog that I homechecked for 8 months ago.  She is in lovely condition and clearly adored: I was there for two hours, their ability to talk about their dog is amazing!  Mind you, she is a great dog, you'd never guess she was 11.Read more... )

No Camera

Jan. 6th, 2015 11:08 pm
bunn: (Logres)
I forgot to take my camera when I took the dogs out this afternoon.

Deep purple cloud overhead, the low sun casting golden veils over the mists in the valley and making the western hills shine. In the east a great shining rainbow, with Dartmoor looming deep blue behind it. The moss glowing green edged with gold, and the yellow grass stems and the granite boulders shining. It started to rain, and the low sun caught the raindrops and made them glitter, and the black bare trees caught the raindrops glistening. Rosie Roo poised delicately on a hillock against the setting sun, limned in gold light and her huge ears glowing a soft pink with the sun shining through them.

Working stupidly hard at the moment, went to bed way too late, got up way too early, really should go to bed now, eyeballs feel like pickled onions - but at least I got to see the golden rain and the rainbow in the purple sky.
bunn: (dog knotwork)
1) a small black cat disappearing up the lane.  I thought she had killed a baby rabbit at first, as she was clearly carrying something heavy from the way she was running.  Then she jumped up onto the bank, and I realised that what she was carrying was actually a very small black kitten.   I have not seen her before.  I wonder if she is feral?

2) dead (but not squished) on the road below Kit Hill, something that was quite definitely either a young polecat-ferret, or possibly an actual polecat.  I know that the Polecats are coming back, after having been almost extinct and reduced to a tiny relict population in West Wales -  but in theory, they are not supposed to have reached Cornwall yet.   So possibly a feral ferret?  Although the difference between a feral polecat-ferret and an actual polecat seems to be largely philosophical.

3) a huge moon.   I took rather a good photograph of it, but you will have to take this on trust, as I then accidentally deleted the photograph before I had copied it off the camera drive.  Oh well.  It's the moon, you all know what that looks like.


Nov. 21st, 2012 06:47 pm
bunn: (Logres)
This morning : heavy grey skies, cut with thin streaks of blue. The world grey and everywhere running with unexpected streams from a day and night of heavy rain.   I went up the hill through a grey and black landscape, every hollow filled with a puddle reflecting shifting clouds.  

Cut for weather )

I bloody love November, even though I found some mud on the evening visit and fell over into it, dying myself an unpleasing and chilly brown. :-D

Eye colour

Jul. 26th, 2012 10:19 pm
bunn: (Skagos)
Someone or other - [livejournal.com profile] ladyofastolat possibly?  I think posted a rantlet a while ago about how in fiction people are constantly noticing each other's eye colours, when most eyes are undistinctive.  And I said, I think, that I did tend to notice people's eyes, but ever since then I've felt slightly insecure about it, as if maybe I didn't notice people's eyes really, but somehow think I do.
But I DID notice them! I did!  )

In other news, Footie cat has conjunctivitis and needs eye drops.  I really don't think I'm going to be able to do them singlehanded.  I did them once by surprising him, but he's wise to me now. :-/
bunn: (Skagos)
Maybe with one of those huge black SERIOUS looking cameras that announce so loudly 'I Am a Photographer' that you can shove them in people's faces.  Or possibly, just lurking behind bushes with my normal camera and charcoal.  Things seen today:

Things seen without a camera.  )

Helga Saab has passed her MOT, and she only needed a fuel filter and one headlamp bulb!  Rejoice! For a car that has done over 135,000 miles, that's not bad. Well done Helga.    I think her fan controller thing has got stuck and needs looking at -  but given how absurdly cold this summer is, slightly misplaced aircon is hardly a major problem. 


May. 25th, 2012 09:43 am
bunn: (Sunset hounds)
Walked the dogs at 8:30 this morning, which was far too late.  There was still dew on the grass, but goodness it was hot! 

The hawthorn trees are covered in mayblossom, mostly white with a delicate shading of pink, and the hedges are blue, white and pink with bluebells, stitchwort and red campion. (A pity that red campion flowers are actually pink rather than red, as the name suggests. Otherwise the hedges would have their own natural bunting for the Jubilee next weekend: cost-effective and ecologically friendly!)  Many of the fields are full of shining buttercups, and the most decorative fields have a yellow mist of buttercups floating against a field of daisies.

The pussy willows are shedding their seeds, and the air was full of tiny floating willow-fluffs, catching the light against the dark shadows of the trees.   I saw a swift, and wondered how the swifts distinguish between tiny wispy willow-seeds, and tiny wispy insects.  Perhaps they don't. Perhaps swifts eat a lot of accidental willow-down.  I wonder if it is good for headaches, like the bark of the willow trees.  I imagine swifts may be prone to headaches, since they are so very dark in colour and whizz about in the sun without wearing hats. 
bunn: (Bungles)
Most mornings, I am drinking coffee when I am alarmed by the sound of loud gallopings, leapings, and thumpings coming from upstairs.  "What's going on?" I cry and rush to the foot of the stairs, to be greeted by Brythen lurcher and Suma Bungle sitting side by side at the top of the stairs looking down at me, a wide-eyed picture of innocence.  They make a good pair, as they are roughly the same colour, though one is tall and thin and stripy, and one is small and round and stripy. They have the same expression in their eyes, though Suma Bungle's eyes are blue, and Brythen's are amber-brown.

 One of these days I will remember  to take my camera with me when this happens. 

Then I have to decide whether to go up and find out if they have thrown anything important on the floor. 
bunn: (Default)
If you can't be bothered to read about my weekend, I have handily summarised it for you in the subject.  The rest is detail.  Oh, and a painting.  Well, two paintings, one by Bruegel, one by me.  

Read more... )
bunn: (Logres)
I had to use a website that uses postcode lookup.   For most people, I am sure postcode lookup is a fine and handy thing: you type your postcode, select your house from a short, ordered list, and Bob's your uncle.   However, if you live in an area where postcodes were assigned in a parsimonious manner, by someone who never thought they might be used except by postman Ted, who knows where you live *anyway*  - then they are a pain in the arse. 

Frankly this is less of a rant than a non-directional witter without a conclusion. )

I stopped by the vet today and there was someone there with the tiniest cutest little goat ever, sitting on her lap.  I was sorely tempted to pocket it.   It did tiny tiny bleats! And it had cute tiny weird demonic goat eyes! 

The Cold

Feb. 3rd, 2012 12:03 pm
bunn: (Mollydog in the snow.)
This morning I did not take the dogs out until about 10:30, hoping the ice would have melted and the ground would be easier on delicate greyhound feet.   But it had not.  Helga Saab complained that it was still -2 degrees C despite the brilliant sunshine, and the half-bottle of water I keep in the boot for thirsty dogs had frozen solid.  It has not snowed here, though I can see that the top of Dartmoor is white.  The skies are a brilliant blue.

The milkbottles on our doorstep had frozen.  Gold Top milk expands more than silver top when frozen, and silver top melts faster, so that the silver top had made a little puddle of cream around itself, whereas the gold top had just thrust its contents skywards and left it at that. 

Yesterday I walked near Tavistock with my sister and my mother and her dogs, under a fabulous red-skies sunset, with the folly on Kit Hill silhouetted against it in the distance. This morning, I saw a puddle in a hollow on the hill which had frozen fast and created a huge spiral swirling pattern of air trapped under the ice.  Of course, I didn't bring my camera either time... 

EDIT - on my second walk of the day, I noticed that the snowdrops which were all in bloom have frozen solid - some of them had melted in the sun, drooped and contorted, then re-frozen in strange sad twisted shapes.  There's something strangely violent about such a sudden cold coming on a landscape that was warming and unfolding ready for the spring : it's not like the expected process of going slowly to sleep for the winter : it's more painful and ugly. 

EDIT2: Saturday - And now it IS snowing! Though only an inch or so and it's not so cold.
bunn: (Mollydog goes boing)
A dog as red as autumn leaves and a dog as grey as stormclouds, racing and chasing and play bowing to the wild South wind from the sea.

I may try to paint this even though I know I won't do it justice... 
bunn: (Car)
You know how you often see flowers attached to a road sign or a tree by the road, placed in memory, one assumes, of someone dead in a road accident?

I've never actually seen anyone putting them up, but I had vaguely wondered about them. I'd envisaged, perhaps, a pair of mourning parents, or a desolate deserted Significant Other, perhaps supported by a friend.

Today I saw the flower bringers. There were about 10 of them, all men in their early 20's, and rather tanned, all on foot, faces very serious, walking along a roadside in a loose group, with the two people who were holding bouquets at the front. As I drove past them, they arrived at a road sign and began to tie the flowers to it.  I almost stopped and took a photo of them, but didn't quite have the nerve. 
bunn: (Cats and Hounds)
I've been trying to work out why the old man I saw wandering along the road last week immediately struck me as a wonderful image.  On the face of it, he was just a fat grumpy old man with a beard. 

But I've just pinned it down - he was Paddington Bear!   That's why he looked so iconic.   He was wearing a dark blue duffle coat and wellingtons, and he had that kind of rounded look.  He had a square brown bag made of that sort of sackcloth material rather than a suitcase, but it was about right in relation to the size of his body.    Admittedly, Paddington normally wears a big hat not a beany, and does not have a beard, but none the less the resemblence was striking...

The other thing I saw I will definitely not try to paint because I don't think I could do her justice, but it was a black lady with the most amazing dreadlocks, mounted on a really beautifully turned out bay horse, all slender legs and shiny.  She was wearing perfect jodhpurs, formal jacket  and very stylish long boots.
bunn: (Default)
Keep seeing things that I can't really photograph, but make very strking images, so I am going to start writing them down. At some point I might even try and paint some ofthem, though I'm terrible at painting people, so maybe not...

1) two fat old grumpy-looking men standing outside the pub in Gunnislake. One black, one white. White one had a fag, black one had a pint. Black one was balding, white one was wearing a faintly amusing faded cotton hat.  Both with huge bellies bulging nobly over their trousers (corduroy for the white one, grey suit trousers for the black one)

2) Very beautiful older blond woman in a long cream-coloured trenchcoat and a very elegant rainhat, with a little fat black Staffordshire bull terrier on a lead.  They had taken shelter from a sudden downpour, and i saw them through a mist of heavy rain. The little round dog had sat down and made a lovely fat round shape compared with the tall curved shape of the owner.  There was a faint air of woe about them.


bunn: (Default)

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