Decayed Bolts and Wood
Tag: nature
Natures Way
As you hear the wind through the trees,
Sounds on the ear to entice and tease.
Natures bounty there in the wood,
Planted here for the great and the good.
Will share its branches and bend its bough,
Save some for later, not all needed now.
Leave some behind, to heal and regroup,
Let nature keep you in the loop.
Berries and fruits, there to behold.
What was once a garden of old
And one day, will be so again,
If you take care and do not drain.
The resources it’s happy to share.
While you clamber among it there.
Away to Anstruther
Away to Anstruther right by the Sea,
A walk in the wind along the quay.
Such wildness and wonder & sights to behold.
Of seascape and boats and stories of old.
A place to sit and enjoy the view.
Of harbour and gulls with me and you.
Chips, salt & vinegar there for our tea.
This is such bliss for you & for me.
Observing the world as it passes us by,
Hearing the gulls as they saw squawk and they cry.
Watching the darkness come over to night.
Clouds over yonder Red sky delight.
The Boundary Line – A Poem
The Boundary Line.
A tight rope marks the boundary line,
Of what is his and what is mine.
There it’s clear for all to see,
A wire runs across to the tree.
A simple border there to define,
A place where you don’t cross the line.
This is a marker there to set,
Just in case he tries to forget.
That there was more given generously,
So as not to cause animosity.
He talked about building a fence,
And when he started this pretence,
Of deciding where his border would go,
Removing the line, well wouldn’t you know.
The best way to do this is to remove the tree,
The one that’s there for all to see.
So he chopped it down and hid it away,
They wouldn’t find it when they came to stay.
But through carelessness, so sure was he
He didn’t count on the things I see.
I walked around and slung over there,
Was my tree stump short and bare.
I took the post with the wire grown through,
And positioned it, in full view.
A reminder of a boundary gone,
And the man who has done me wrong.
For twenty four inches more of land,
So that next to his house, a shed he’ll stand.
He should have asked and not just take,
But he will learn from his mistake.
He does not own, the whole hill,
This place where we are residing still.
We have not gone, are still around.
Here to remain and stand our ground.
They tell us strong fences, good neighbours make.
But he should remember there’s give and take.
Not take and take and just keep on
Until there’s nothing left and it all is gone.
So while he will sit and criticise,
He will do well to remember, that we’ve become wise.
To the stories he tells and the liberties taken,
Which at times, leave us upset and shaken.
But we will fight on and not be deterred,
And timing is right, has not been deferred.
We’ll be “saving our stamps” as he’ll often say
Until our help is required one fine day.
Then we might choose, whether to be
Those friendly helpful people he’ll see.
Or will he arrive at a closed door.
Advantages taken again, no more.
The boundary line has truly been crossed
When into the rubbish it was tossed.
It showed no care and disrespect.
For a friendship now gone due to neglect.
The Crossed Boundary…
This picture represents a crossed boundary. There are often things which you cannot understand however hard you might try. About three years ago, I laid out the boundary to our garden, in accordance with our deeds, I was a little more generous than I should be, to allow our neighbour to create a slightly wider gateway or access to the side of his house. I checked with the Laird, a man who has known both properties for many years, he came and inspected the area and confirmed that I had been more than generous with my neighbour, so there should be no issue. It was a simple barrier. Wire fencing supported by 4 inch wooden fence posts and galvanised wire. It was a gentle boundary, showing where the line was. I tacked it loosely around an apple tree in the orchard part of the garden.
About 18 months later, when I returned the apple tree was completely gone. There was also a pile of logs which had been stacked at the bottom of my neighbours driveway, with rather alot from an apple tree, which he does not have anywhere on his land. It was clear that they had come from my garden. He only has one tree remaining in his garden, he left it looking like a totem pole when he butchered it five years ago and it is still fighting back with greenery this year for the first time. He set a fire underneath it, climbed up the tree after a bottle of vodka when the branches caught light and cut the branch he was sitting on, falling to the ground unscathed. He then decided the next day to take the other branches off it.
The Sycamore & The Totem
I was a bit fed up, but more so when I found that my boundary had been cut through as he built his fence. It was needless to take it down and little more than vandalism. My tree had been lopped and the evidence was there in his wood pile. I removed the 8ft high log which had been left there and propped it up against the side door of the cottage in plain sight of his window. Should he wish to discuss trees with me again, I would point out that he had no business in my garden felling my trees or taking my wood without discussion.
Needless to say, there was no discussion. Not that year or since he did not pass by, went away for a while and I did not see him until this year, in passing but he has not come by to speak with me, preferring to speak only with my partner. He doesn’t have a very high opinion of women, especially the ones who make decisions. The log stayed in our cottage since then, it made a good prop-barricade in case someone tried to push the door in. But a friend who helped us chop logs this week cut it up for firewood when I wasn’t looking, this is the only piece I managed to salvage.
So this is all that remains of my boundary, the one he crossed. A crossed line, which I will not forget. It will stay in the cottage as a reminder to me that I should not trust him. As a reminder to him that I know what he did and of my displeasure at his actions.
In the time we have had the cottage he has tried many times to fell my trees. Wild attempts to get other people to cut them down in my absence, with excuses as to why, some of which we have foiled only just in time. There is a large sycamore which is growing rather spectacularly and he attempted to get the telephone company only a week ago to fell it, saying that it was on his land. It isn’t. I ask myself when will he realise that I have woods here because I love the trees, they are calming, protecting and offer sanctuary and they are mine. There are none which can damage his property, they were already removed. There are none which concern him. The truth is that he doesn’t care. Some people don’t. My question is that if they resent the countryside so much, then why choose to live there? A rural location without trees and nature, well that just isn’t natural.
I think I need to spend more time here, in my absence things happen…
Getting Creative Again- Making and Photographing Driftwood Sculptures.
26/10/16
Yesterday evening as the sun was setting we went for a drive to Largo. It was where we spent a lovely Christmas & New Year in a rented cottage after the roof came in up here. I have fond memories of us all three, running along the beach. Kato skipping over the huge rocks like a mountain goat, when in other places he could trip on a pebble. My partner and I hand in hand walking along the sand.
I have a photo I took of them when I wrote Happy New Year in the sand on the beach when the tide was out. Yesterday was different, I wrote a tribute to our Kato in the sand as the sun had gone down and the houses in the background were lit up like Christmas. We still walked hand in hand and combed the beach for driftwood. I wasn’t sure what I was going to do with it, but I felt like being creative.
So this afternoon, with a couple of hours to spare, I decided that I would make beach combed sculptures. You know the type that rely upon gravity to hold them into place. Inspired by the stone sculptures held together just by their position in river beds, with the water gushing past.
We have a wonderful brook alongside our house, my partner built it for me and lined it with stones, so that Kato could play safely in the water of what was once a mosquito infested ditch. It is now a pretty stream thanks to his efforts.
So I set about positioning the driftwood and a few beach pebbles that we collected yesterday, I also found a few interesting shells.
I wondered how I would leave them, but knew that I would have to photograph them. The mantelpiece seemed like the perfect place. It is a stained hardwood top with a rough plastered white painted chimney breast behind it, which I thought might make a good backdrop. Unfortunately I didn’t do this until the evening, so the only light in here is from an overhead bulb which created some shadows which I wasn’t always grateful for. However generally I was pleased with the end result.
The one thing that was unexpected was that it got the imagination going, I could the shapes like animals in the wood, an alligator, a sheep, a whale, a Dragon, can you see any of them too?
I thought I saw a wolf, a man showing you something inside a hole and some strange sea creature.
I saw a strange lizard and there is a shell, which has almost worn away, which has a small pebble firmly lodged inside it.
I left the sand on the shells and the logs, the logs were still damp from the beach and were drying out when I brought them back. I tried to Balance some and was intrigued by the wormholes.
This was my drift pile before I assembled them, pretty uninspiring and it’s surprising what you can do when you make the effort.
The photos below were just the same one piece of driftwood.
When I came to position the stones, I hung them precariously over the edge, they did not fall, I stood a family on the top, I imagined a mother, a father and a dog, at first it looked a little like the third person, but I repositioned it to better signify our family.
I looked at the father stone, a close up of this showed a mournful face, as though crying out. It signified to me the grief Kato’s Dad has experienced in the past three months since we lost him.
It’s strange how the imagination can bring emotions to the fore. As we have almost come to the end of our break here, we are not looking forward to returning South. It has been hard to be in our house without our Little Bear here in the flesh, remembering all of the things that previously we enjoyed as a family here. But, we are planning things for our future however long or short that may be. We are planning a future in Scotland. More time spent with the friends we have made there, would be a blessing. We have met some lovely people on this trip, spent time with old friends who have been pleased to see us and made some new ones along the way.
The Hawk
Beautifully dancing, swooping the fields,
Stopping to notice the presence it yields.
Fields of straw over the way,
Looking down upon farmers gathering hay.
Swept upon current a different direction,
Sitting here watching, a time for reflection.
Farmland and country, forest and loch,
Wind so fierce, you reel from the shock.
Rain coming sideways to wash your soul clean.
Such beauty is this, in the place where you dream.
A pair of birds, searching for prey,
On this cold, damp Autumn day.
Ignoring the others, they fly overhead.
I’m filled with awe and with bowed head.
Seagulls over fly in the mist,
Searching for something they pass and they drift.
But with purpose it arrives with no squawk,
The careful hunter, the silent hawk.
Days like These and Remaining Independent
There’s something about days like these, being in a rural location that makes you feel cold to the bone. It’s damp in our house and in a stone cottage where on this trip we have brought with us an oil fired heater which was keeping the chill off, we were feeling rather pleased that it was working. On a freezing cold night, we are now able to keep warm in two rooms. I am also extremely grateful that I have the gas cooker in the caravan. It’s a really old caravan and it leaks and is damp, but it has its’ cosy moments.
Today there is something wrong with the electric. It has been on less than half speed since we awoke there must be a problem up in the fields somewhere. The caravan fused last night, which meant that we had an impromptu candlelit dinner in there. I was just pleased that there was power left in the house, but today nothing was running right. 20 minutes to boil a kettle and despite the heater being left on all day, the room was still cold and chilly. We wondered if any other homes were suffering but the neighbour is not around so we cannot ask him. So as I prepped dinner tonight, a Thai Chicken Curry to warm us up, suddenly the cavalry arrive here, lights ablaze on their team of vehicles, called by our neighbour who returned home to a cold house. We both have very dim lights. At first we thought that the bulbs might be on their way out, but since they are the old incandescent ones, they either work or they don’t.
So Scottish Power arrived at about 9pm, to head over the hills to investigate a cabling problem, we were all at half speed so it seemed.
Grateful for the logs, gas bottles and candles I have in the house along with the bottled drinking water and our washing water. Yes we are basic here, but pretty self sufficient for a night at least. The guys worked through the night, cutting all power to our homes from 11pm. Back on by 7am they let us know before heading back down the hill. We were very relieved that we could get the oil fire back on again to warm it up.
So today we are back to normal again and since I only brought the electric chainsaw with us on this trip, I am relieved as I will have to cut wood again in a couple of days, to actually fit on the fire. Our logs were hastily cut from trees which had fallen in storms in the past couple of years, all sections are about a foot high and anything up to 2 feet across and were not logged at the time. They have dried in large pieces and now need to be split. We tried a small hand splitter, a large axe, a small hand axe and we only have the small chainsaw left here to try. My partner tried it the other day, but his old injuries along with the new ones have been playing him up and have left him sore. So it will finally be my turn to try, I have the kit for working outside, chainsaw helmet, muffs, gloves, trousers and rigger boots. I am sure that with his guidance I’ll be able to do it. When I get the hang of using the small one, then I can move onto the big one next time. But for now this will have to do for us.
Something occurred to me yesterday morning though, if all the big strong men up here get their logs delivered and pose with their axes for their women, then there is probably a reason or two why. I will leave you to come to your own conclusions there.
Our neighbour has a bandsaw and a huge pile of perfectly sawn logs. They are outside ready for winter and he has moved them outside his back door for ease of use when needed. When the power was down, my partner commented that it must be lovely and warm in there with his new log burner going. He was a little bit shocked when he was informed that despite having it fitted over a year ago, that the man still has not yet used it. That “it was a very messy business using this one, and all the instructions are in Italian.” As my partner says, that was three reasons. Remembering the other neighbour with his wood delivery my response was My God, is it all for show up here?
How difficult is it to light a fire for goodness sake?
I guess some people are not blessed with either common sense or practicality.
I don’t know why the mess of a log fire should bother him, he is a wealthy man who has people to clean and pick up after him.
So when there was not enough power to pump his oil fired heating around his house rather than put on a coat to come outside and speak to the men from the power company, he stood in the icy cold in his sweater. He did not figure out how to use his log burner and would rather sit indoors moaning that it was cold.
“He’d cut off his nose to spite his face” as my grandparents used to say…
We did have some light it was so dim that it was little more than candlelight and it wouldn’t even power the fan heater, or the electric blanket on the bed. We put on extra layers, extra logs on the fire and can boil a kettle on the gas in the caravan if need be. Although everything took twice the time to achieve it didn’t much matter to us, we were not on a schedule, however for the folk who are, it must have driven them crazy.
Going Native
The Back Garden…
From the Front Step.
This is our view as we arrived at the cottage. It’s overgrown, more so than last year when we arrived midsummer I think, but it will soon die back again and we won’t have time to clear it all on this short trip.
But we are home. I wonder how long it will be before we have gone native. It used to take Kato about 24 hours, before he got used to the sights and sounds around him. A huge sleep in our house and out to his favourite spot to look at the view, followed by a walk around the perimeter. Figuring out what had changed whilst he was away.
This time it was just us walking about. We opened the house up and got the luggage in made a cup of coffee and sat out on the step. Looking at his favourite spot.
Suddenly my partner jumped up, come on. It’s time. He got the ashes we had saved for the purpose and we stood by his favourite spot and said Welcome Home our Darling Boy, you will always have a part of you in Scotland as we scattered them to the wind. I prayed that he would be happy to be here, that he would now rest wherever he wished to be and that we would still feel his presence whenever we needed to. We wiped away tears, as we have done every day since then as we spend time here, it hasn’t got any easier for us that he is no longer here.
He is in our thoughts constantly. I guess that we are still in grief for our boy, despite our attempts at carrying on.
So, about going native…
How long did it take? Well we still felt like holiday makers for a couple of days, we got supplies from the shops and funny looks because our accents are so different coming from the south. But within about 24 hours, a few of the local phrases and the hint of an accent had begun to creep into the vocabulary.
The water up here is different in taste. The air is clearer and the light brighter, but it always feels like home at a slower pace and we settle right back in.
I realised yesterday that I have not looked in the mirror for five days, there is one on the wall, but it’s positioned a little too high for me to see into, so I haven’t bothered. Normally this would bother me, on trips to the shops etc, but this time it hasn’t. I only put on Mascara to go and visit one of my friends the other day, other than that, my face has been completely free of make up and it hasn’t bothered me at all. But I do remember to use moisturiser each day and cleanse the soot off at night.
I did look in the mirror yesterday after that thought occurred to me, but only since I had been collecting kisses from puppies at the supermarket and needed to wash it.
I have the wild hair to go with it, but am happier than I have been in months. It’s so good to be away from the normality, back to basics and thinking about what we use and recycle up here.
I saw a field mouse run through the back of the house the other night in the old croft. It was only out the back but I will have to keep an eye and make sure that our food supplies are kept secure, last night as I sat in the caravan one ran over my foot out from under one of the seats, startled that I was there. Usually by this time of the year, it would have the caravan to itself and all would be quiet, almost hibernation. I don’t see the point of setting traps when we do not live here all the time, it’s only one or two in different places and as long as I don’t keep food where they can get to it, I see that they have as much right to shelter here as I do.
Meanwhile we are enjoying the peace and serenity of the place with all the wildlife that surrounds us. As my partner sat enjoying a cup of coffee, a whole family of deer, Stag, Doe and Fawn wandered up to take a look at him and meet him on the path outside our door.
Last night in the twilight, of a beautiful moon we heard the owls as they flew across the garden, over the trees which bend to the wind calling out to each other, life continuing and nature at its best.
This morning, he called me to “Quickly come and look,” there was a beautiful bird of prey swooping down into the field, it was there for a while. We stood and watched it in the sunshine before the rain came. I always collect the beautiful speckled flyaway feathers that I find, as there are often hawks here, occasionally Eagles fly overhead, but usually the smaller birds. I take the feathers back South to remind me, but it’s good to be back here in the midst of it all.
It is raining again, for the umpteenth time today, we have mist across the fields and the wind blowing the clouds across, it will pass and we will be warm inside.
The Grass IS Greener, Ask the Sheep!
The Grass is Greener on the other side, just ask the sheep.
So we awoke to find the fields next door full of sheep and thought that the neighbouring farmer must have branched out from cattle to sheep. Kato would have loved to walk or run around that field and I’m sure that he would have helped round them up in the evening by running around the field if required, after all he managed that with the cows.
After a leisurely breakfast, (well it is our holiday after all) we looked out from the window to see that one of the sheep had broken free from that field and was in our neighbours field in front of the house.
Normally this would not be a problem except that this neighbour does not close his gates, the field has hazards in it for animals and if the others followed, as sheep tend to do, then there could have been a whole herd of sheep across the lane causing mayhem or getting hurt. Unfortunately the man is not an animal lover and therefore shows no care that what is in his field could cause injury to others.
We made a call, but got voicemail so the farmer must have been out in the fields, so leaving a message, my partner went to move gates so that it couldn’t get any further. The sheep stood munching the lovely green grass and looking quite bemused, mouthfuls of grass filled his face and he was oblivious to the fact that his freedom was being curtailed.
He didn’t care, as you could clearly see, from the photograph the grass definitely was greener this side of the fence. He was happy to stay there. Sod’s law prevailed though and later he just skipped back across to the other field before the farmer could arrive and round him up. We later found out that a new farmer had rented the fields for his sheep and as a Thank you for securing them he offered us one of his lambs in the spring when we are next up. Now that’s a tempting thought.
byindiablue 