THE RAGBAG

November 24th 2014

As you know, I'm distracted and busy so proper posts are somewhat adrift. But . . . well, do you have photos which start off stacked and ready to use but which drift down like half-used balls of wool in a knitting bag?

I do!

So for this post I'll rescue a recent few and bung them here.

First is the section of Dorset cliff which begins at West Bay and runs east towards Portland. It's where Chesil Beach begins (or ends, depending on which direction you're coming from). (So for all that these soft and golden and fast eroding cliffs are beautiful and impressive, look at at their feet.) For a while it runs along like an ordinary beach slam up against the shore but gradually and extraordinarily it drifts off into the sea, first leaving gaps and pools then peeling away completely leaving the Fleet Lagoon between it and the land. And as it goes East, the lagoon widens and the beach rises till it becomes a looming pile of up to fifty feet running parallel with the continuing cliffs and fields till it launches off on its own for a couple of miles then is stopped short by the very different grey stone cliffs of Portland. (Apologies for long sentence.)

Here at the beginning, the pebbles are really gravel. But if you were to follow the beach along you'd find the pebbles get bigger and bigger so by the time you arrived at Portland you would find not only that your legs would hurt horribly but the pebbles would now be flattish and smooth and many colours - pink and brown and grey. Most of them would be about the size to rest comfortably on the curved palm of your hand.

I don't think it's possible to explain anything of what this is all like. You have to see Chesil Beach to make sense of - and even then it's pretty hard to grasp and even when I see it every day I never fail to find it extraordinary.

There are so many extraordinary things to wonder at; things which go beyond the merely geographical - like what is that man doing on top of the cliff?

He was there quite a while. Is he practising golf strokes? Is he? And, if so, why there? . . .

Now we'll flit to the New Forest in Hampshire. Whenever I mention the New Forest I need to make it clear this is a very old forest. (Developed from pre-existing woodland in 1079) And here is a very old tree beside the village of Fritham. And on the very old tree there is lichen. Indeed, the tree seems to be plastered in lichen . . . and moss . . . and I wish I had had time there to look at it properly while I was there. But I didn't. It was a 'Hang on can you wait a minute while I take a picture,' sort of moment. Snap. Snap. And we were away. Hurray for cameras that's what I say! In a sense I was able to bring the tree back home with me to look at it here.

December 17th 2014

November 1st 2014 - but fairly confident ragwort will be flowering there still in December.

And a third extraordinary. I don't know when autumn ends and winter begins. Whichever it is, it's not still summer. But some flowers flower and flower. And some flowers, like this Oxford Ragwort like to flower in extraordinary places. In Poole, Ragwort has taken a shine to the railway. This plant is growing through the zig-zag slats there to dissuade pedestrians on a level crossing from veering off down the tracks. And it hasn't noticed it's season is over. It's carrying the Ragwort banner, ploughing on well after its companions have died down.

Closer to home, out of an urban setting, nearly always there will be an Oxford Ragwort plant flowering in winter. Personality!

Ain't nature wonderful!

Related Posts

CHESIL BEACH

Nothing But Stones

Thrift on Chesil Beach

NEW FOREST

Redwood Trees in the New Forest

On My Other Blog - Message in a Milk Bottle

The same beginning but with Portland in the distance.

External Links

Chesil Beach on Wikipedia

Chesil Beach - lots of info. provided as advert by commercial company specialising in measuring underwater noise.

The New Forest on Wikipedia

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FRUIT TREES - A GARDEN CENTRE EXPEDITION

Bumble Bee (Buff-Tailed Bumble Bee (Bombus (Bombus) terrestris?)
on Hellebore flowers in a garden centre.

I've been to a garden centre.

Garden centres aren't the usual haunt for posts on Loose and Leafy but it's often struck me some trees along an old railway line not far from where I live mark a border between the domestic and the wild. Perhaps I should trace their modern origins?

Some have their roots - literally - in gardens below the embankment. What seem to be bushes turn out to be the tops of quite hefty trees, with their trunks disappearing down through the undergrowth into a world of mown lawns and washing lines. There are what seem to be vestiges of cottage and station gardens too - like apple trees with crocosmia at the foot of one of them. And there are damsons which are good to pick and turn into jam as well as sloes.

So I went to the garden centre to visit their cousins.

Garden centres are prim places compared with the brambled acres and nettlebeds I usually feature in this blog; and much better regulated than the little street plants which feature in my urban posts. But they are handy if you want to examine a twig.

There's an apple tree whose windfalls I collect in the autumn - but its branches are high.

Apple tree bud. (Spartan)

I can examine a garden centre apple bud close-to.

At this time of year it's hard to distinguish the rail-side damson trees from others crowded around them.

Damson (Merryweather)

But, at the garden centre, they are clearly labelled.

I've not come across pears growing wild. That doesn't stop me admiring them when I come across them standing close in a garden centre row.

Pears (Commice)

The top of one of the pear trees
close up

Sometime in the next few weeks, we are likely to be joined by readers of Kitchen Garden Magazine. Welcome if you are one of them! Would you like to join us in Following a Tree for a year (and beyond!). All you have to do is to pick a tree - whether in your garden or in the wild or in a public place like a road-side or a park - and keep an eye on it for a year; notice when its leaves break open, when it blossoms, what it looks like in summer . . . what plants grow at its feet . . . whether there are lichens on its trunk . . . insects in its bark . . . birds in its branches.

I'm Following a Tree

You don't need to write anything down to follow a tree. It's all in the noticing. However, if you would like to share what you see why not think about starting a blog if you haven't one already? (If you'd appreciate a little help, do email. I can advise about setting up one like this (the format is supplied free by blogger)). Or you might like another kind - click on some of the links on the Tree Following page and be inspired! (Wordpress is popular too.)

Maybe you are on Twitter? Use #treefollowing.

On YouTube - document your tree there. If you are planting a new fruit tree in your garden - star in your own movie about digging the hole for its roots! (I recorded birds from below an elderberry tree I followed. (April 2012))

Or if you would like simply to send me a photo of your tree once in a while through the year, and maybe a paragraph about it, I'll see if I can find a space for it here on Loose and Leafy.

looseandleafy@googlemail.com

Bloggers - on Friday March 7th and on the 7th of every month from thenTree Following motif on your blog - please feel free to do so.
on, there'll be an opportunity to leave a link to your tree following posts on a linky box. (If you have not come across one before, don't worry, it's perfectly straightforward to use.) And if you'd like to use the

For more about tree following - and a growing list of tree followers - click HERE.

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