The Roses Of Rose Lane

Rose Lane doesn't get its name from the roses that grow there, but from The Rose pub that used to stand near to one end of it. However some of those who choose to live along this quiet little byway are keen rose-growers, making it a pleasure to wander through at this time of year.

I also wandered into Dolphin Lane while taking these photos; there are no dolphins in Dolphin Lane (other than one that's featured on a weather-vane) - it gets its name from another pub.

Take care.

Daisy, Rose And Amy

The Ox-eye Daisies were looking good yesterday....

….as were the flowers of the wild Dog Rose....

And for today's "Music On Friday" (arriving on Saturday this week - what's the use of being retired if I still have to stick to schedules?) I'll share with you an artist whom I would probably have missed entirely if not for a young man that I used to look after; she was one of his favourites when she released her first album and had her first hit record when she was just 18. Here she is, rather more acoustic than usual, locked down in her own house....

Take care.

Searching For Gold

The plan was simple enough: bike to a nearby viewpoint and watch the sunset. Two things could go wrong - the weather and me! During the day the forecasts kept saying that cloud would increase from six o'clock onwards. Those of you who've read this blog for a while will also have gathered that I'm a morning person and tend to run out of energy as the day progresses. At seven o'clock it was still sunny and I was still awake, so I set off to see what would happen. Here are the resultant photos.....

There was just one other person there enjoying the entertainment, another cyclist. There was also a walker who passed by (you've already seen him). Everyone else must have been at home watching TV. 

Take care.

Village Tour

A day of cloudless skies and light breeze, ideal for a spin on the bicycle through the nearby villages, large and small.

Plenty of others had similar ideas, which tempted me on to some of the less obvious minor byways, including the one to the village of Abington Pigotts.

One man was out jogging, but the rest of the population of 162 were nowhere to be seen.

There are several tiny villages in this corner of Cambridgeshire, including:
      Whaddon (population 481)
      Arrington (415)
      Wimpole (381)
      Croydon (235)
      Hatley (181)
      Tadlow (178)
       and Wendy, which together with neighbouring Shingay amounts to 139 souls.
      That's to say nothing about Malton, which is now just a farm and a couple of houses, and Clopton which has completely disappeared.

Abington Pigotts does have a lovely little church, situated down a quiet side road.

The village name, Abington, derives from "the settlement of a man called Abba", while the Pigotts suffix comes from the Pigott family who owned the manor here for centuries. The local publican has had a bit of fun with the name.....

It was known as the Darby And Joan till the 1980s.

Like every other pub in the country it's closed for business for now because of Corona virus restrictions.

Someone was watching me from over the garden hedge so I pedalled onwards.

On my way homewards I couldn't resist having another look at that field of peonies that I showed you a few days ago.

Some more of the dark red variety have opened up since last time we were here.

Take care.

This Verdant Land

Everything was looking very green when I went out for a stroll on Sunday morning. No need to head for the beach or to any popular beauty spots; I can find plenty of things to photograph within just a couple of miles of home. 

I went on a walk I've done many times before and found much had inevitably changed since last time I passed this way.

The Manx Loaghtan sheep were back on Shepreth Moor.

The little streams were fast disappearing beneath the sudden surge of plant growth.

Wild Iris or Flags were blooming in many ditches and waterways.

I couldn't resist a close-up.

Cow Parsley lined the banks and a little Water Crowfoot was flowering down on the water. In many places it was impossible to see the stream for all the vegetation.

A fallen twig from a Beech tree provided a contrast to all the green.

The fallen tree, which bridges the watercourse, is rapidly being hidden by ivy.

Reeds by the water's edge give interesting sweeping lines.

A rather picturesque old barn by the roadside.

Sun shining through the Sycamore leaves.

And finally one of those tunnels through the trees that people always seem to like.

That's enough to keep me interested during a five-and-a-half mile walk before my Sunday lunch.


Take care.