Between
sun and showers, a pale rainbow arcs over the valley. It's the first time
we've done our longer walk to Thornhill for a while.
This time we're taking our friends Roger and Sue. I don't realise how
much I've learnt about the area until I find myself rattling off to Roger
bits and pieces about the Civil War seige of Thornhill Hall, the celebrated
rectors of Thornhill church and the history of the local canal. I find
myself thinking; I could write a book on that . . . or that . . . or that.
And, of the numerous things I see that I'd like to draw, the crack willows
in Coxley Valley are near the top of my list.
As
usual this winter, there are plenty of redwings about
and almost as many fieldfares. There's a mallard
on the moat of the ruined hall and a shallow-rooted grey poplar on the
corner of the island has been knocked over by the wind.
A
chaffinch in the hedge by the bird feeders is today's
fairly unusual visitor to the garden.
Between
sun and showers, a pale rainbow arcs over the valley. It's the first time
we've done our longer walk to Thornhill for a while.
This time we're taking our friends Roger and Sue. I don't realise how
much I've learnt about the area until I find myself rattling off to Roger
bits and pieces about the Civil War seige of Thornhill Hall, the celebrated
rectors of Thornhill church and the history of the local canal. I find
myself thinking; I could write a book on that . . . or that . . . or that.
And, of the numerous things I see that I'd like to draw, the crack willows
in Coxley Valley are near the top of my list.
As
usual this winter, there are plenty of redwings about
and almost as many fieldfares. There's a mallard
on the moat of the ruined hall and a shallow-rooted grey poplar on the
corner of the island has been knocked over by the wind.
A
chaffinch in the hedge by the bird feeders is today's
fairly unusual visitor to the garden.