It's not always raining

Sunset one Tuesday

when you've been away in hot London City, and you are a little tired of buildings and pavements and people and traffic, then its very very good to come home. 

in amongst the foxgloves

- surprisingly neither of us got hay fever here. ;) 

Bit of a squeeze...

The swallow babies are almost fully grown. At least I think they must be because these pictures show there is no room at the inn anymore! Looks really full and much jostling goes on to turn around!

Pretty sure there's only three babies, might be four, all squeezed in there! If you look closely you can see a fabulous feather they have used to line the nest. Its black, really long - curls all the way round the nest - with fine strands... heaven knows what its from. Something huge! Do you think we have ostriches nearby?! 

{Please note, no babies were stressed in the taking of these; I had a zoom lens and was out the way. they are at the top eaves of our carport!} 

 

Whilst the sun shines...

Love watching the balers. Hoovering up all the hay and spitting out huge bales behind as it goes along. 

It is one of those things you see that makes you go; goodness where's the year gone already. Whizzing along the months it seems.

Sweet sunny July.

Curlew family pictures...

The curlews in the field are a family of six; two parents, three babies as far as I can work out, and boy are they shouty... I am going to miss them when they leave next month, apparently by the end of July they will have returned to a coastline, to potter about in the mud. I wonder where they are going, ( we aren't particularly near a coast!) and I wish I could go too, or track them somehow.  How on earth they managed to hatch three babies the size of goose eggs, on the floor,  in a field running with foxes, pole cats, hares, buzzards and kites, heaven knows - but they did it. 

Incredibly hard to photograph, considering they are literally above our heads most of the day, they like to dip and dive and go from light to dark backgrounds in nanoseconds, leaving me and my poor camera to do what we can.  Heres four of them, coming in to the field. The other two were there too, just not in my shot. 

Theres three in this picture {above}  One about to land and two already down. The youngsters I think, one of them has not perfected a smooth landing yet.. you can see its tumble of wings up in the grass to help not fall flat on its face.... with beaks ending up about 15cm longs ( thank you google) I can imagine it takes some skill to fly and land with that on your face.  Despite their size and huge wing span they are really gentle types and very nervy - not even slightly threatening, not even with that beak. 

You'll have to humour me going on about them, it feels pretty special,  part of a species that is involved in many campaigns to save it, projects to release it, protected nests and tireless teams of curlew-aholics working to save and look after them, and we just get a family rock up and successfully nest next to us. Awesome. 

New neighbours...

There are Curlews nesting in the long grass meadow next to us. And they are both noisy and super active - you can't fail to see them or hear them 200 times a day. They are adorable. Huge, fast, almost impossible to photograph but really really quirky kind of cute.  You'll have to click the link to see clear photos of them because this is not the 'easy to photograph sit still on the fence' kinda bird. 

This is Wallace. Yes of course I named the wild bird, doesn't everyone? Named because looking for the head peering up in all that grass is a lot like looking in a 'Where's Wally' book,  but its probably a female doing all the hard work so Wally won't work, so Wallace it is then.

I'll be honest, its more than one of them. I actually think its more than two of them, but I don't know;  they are fast when they want to be! I'm just going to call all of them Wallace, to save confusion. Cover all bases. ;)

They are an amber to red classified bird - on the near endangered list. So its lovely they are alive and very well here. And should you ever be as dim as me, and think up until alarmingly recently that birds with long curved wader type beaks only live at the beach... here's proof they like the farmland too. You're welcome. Now you won't look quite as dim as I did. 

 

 

 

Climbed a new hill...

Am pretty sure I could go on a different footpath/track every single day for years and still never walk the same place twice. Of course its not quite like that - I have my favourites that I repeat, and I am never quite sure what's at the top of some 'new' hill walks, so wait until I have someone I can coerce into coming along take with me to help with the dogs. Finally this weekend we hit a new trail and were delighted at the view and whole new area it led to. Okay I was delighted, pretty sure the big kids were nonstop complaining about the drizzle and/or the steep hill part. but still - new hill conquered! 

incoming weather...

Until I lived here I had never been 'above the weather'. Or beside it, or watched it cross the valley in front of you.  Now it happens all the time. Because I am spending half my life up a hill or ten. The sky is awesome, and the rain pours down 'just over there' and then you can watch it move along. 

Through the gate

Not sure how anyone local gets anywhere fast, but I have a habit of stopping for photos. If I don't stop for photos I have to exclaim loudly about the light (- OH THE LIGHT here is awesome-) and the views,  its a photographer thing... 

 

Meet the Team. Pony version.

Despite owning land and keeping a wide variety of animals, we are not a farm. My husband will gladly point out the difference to you, - farms make money ;) 

I sometimes think we should change the name of our house to "Nota Farm" because then, ironically, we would be a farm !

We've got goats, ponies, horses, chickens, sheep, and two huge mad pointer dogs. I have my eye on some 'other varieties of animals' but I can't possibly comment as the husband might object. {see first point}  

Originally I began this new blog to showcase the photographs of the gorgeous views and surroundings around us, but I figure you might as well meet the team, as 90% of my photographs have the animals in them. 

You've met the goats and the dogs. Now meet the very important Equines.

In the beginning there was only Puzzle Pony.  

Actually before that there was a pony mad child, who rode any horse anywhere that she could. Who walked miles as a teenager to help out at stables. Who babysat others horses, who rode the mad ones at the riding schools. Who finally had her own loan pony in her late teens..... and then gave it all up to become a responsible married woman and mother.
Fast forward many years of missing horses so much I actually avoided them, as being around them but 'not' being around them properly was too hard.  Then my third child wanted to ride, and the forth, and somehow I rode too.  Eventually had a pony mare on loan, which was a learning curve and half, and FINALLY we get to the point of the story here - this fine ginger chap.  

He was - as all the best ones are - 'not suitable at all'. He was too short, too young and definitely not for us.  Except of course he completely was. He taught the girls to ride, he taught me all about the holistic approach to horses, and introduced me to some genuinely wonderful people. He will go and try and do anything you ask of him. He knows way to many tricks - including undoing zips, knots, doors and gates. He adores food, in particular pears. He's the one all the kids of friends ride, and the one they all want to take home.  He's far too bossy in the field, he can't stand goats/sheep/dogs/ anything in his field, which isn't helpful.  He's a zingy bright orange in the summer and a handsome fluffy auburn in the winter. He never wears a noseband, and has a glorious unpulled mane since moving to Wales. He trots faster than most horses twice his size and he can sulk like no other, but I trust him and he trusts me. To be able to have him here, at home and see him from my window is my whole dream come true.

Whiskey, or Whiskey Mac, to give him his full title, arrived the first year we lived here. A big horse, as all the others were ponies.  He is a fabulous chap. the most sensitive soul, prone to overacting and prone to all manner of accidents. I once described him to my Vet as a Shakespearian actor in horse form; that's him exactly. He loves music, - love loves music, is obsessed with hay, and since moving to the 'slate and clay' based soils of our land has taken on a pink hue and never been white again. He is most likely to stand on your foot one minute, but look so very elegant and thoroughbred-y the next minute. He detests the Stella dog, and tho the tallest of all horses here, he bows down to Puzzle the boss. He's brilliant fun to ride, -with a whole new array of paces he makes up as he goes along and the ability to spot a potential monster at a 100 paces you might not think so, but he is, like a great big merry go round horse. I laugh every time we ride, he is doughnut, but he's my doughnut. 

 

Vincent is a  Shetland pony. If you don't know Shetland ponies they are basically the gangsters of the horse world. Cute but utterly dangerously so. They can escape, charm, steal, undo and wheedle their way out, or into, anything.  Vinnie's parents are show champion standard. Perfectly marked piebalds. Vincent arrived annnnnd.... was black with a few white smudges, so never made it in the show world. Their loss our gain really. He is adorable. He has fans all over the world, and wins the 'who in our house has the most instagram likes' count every time his photo is posted! He sadly suffers from a reaction to midges and flies, so summer is not his favourite time of year. During the winter he grows a good four inch thick coat and frankly looks just like a teddy bear. With attitude. He is, shall we say, a real foodie, and will pick pocket, trespass and steal if that's what it requires. He and Puzzle were best buddies until Whiskey arrived and now he often gets left out as they play together. Which makes me feel dreadful. However should you take Vince from the field, the other two have a minor meltdown that he isn't there. He's got the deepest voice I've ever heard and his whinnies sound like he smokes 60 a day. (Knowing Vincent, that's entirely possible)