OCTOBER - "Something told the wild geese It was time to go..."
Something told the wild geese
It was time to go;
Though the fields lay golden
Something whispered, — "snow".
Leaves were green and stirring,
Berries, luster-glossed,
But beneath warm feathers
Something cautioned, — "frost".
All the sagging orchards
Steamed with amber spice,
But each wild breast stiffened
At remembered ice.
Something told the wild geese
It was time to fly —
Summer sun was on their wings,
Winter in their cry.
(by Rachel Field)
October dawned mild and wet and with the news that Storm Amy was on its way. Still reeling from Storm Floris, we were not looking forward to Amy's arrival one little bit! The wind picked up on the third and Storm Amy arrived in the late afternoon. It was a wild night! The next day was equally wild and, when I went out into the yard with Judith to let Jess out before bedtime, I was scared! It had been a dreadful weather day and anyone living through that will not deny climate change. Remembering the destruction of Storm Floris, dear friends were in touch through Saturday and we were constantly updating close family too.
In fact, after screaming winds and moving tiles and outdoor chairs, wheelbarrows and empty planters, the damage was nothing compared to the damage caused by Storm Floris. My metal obelisk, probably loosened by Floris, crashed to the ground, taking with it the beautiful Nike Clematis Warszawska and the evergreen clematis which both shared the support which the obelisk had given in the little cottage garden. The tarp which Clemency had put over the orchard quail for the duration of the storm, blew off. Apart from the remaining leaves being well and truly stripped from shrubs, hedges and trees, the only other "damage" we had was a leak in the conservatory. This turned out not to be damage at all but a roof window which had been left slightly open!
By 8:30am on Sunday, the storm was subsiding and the chickens were back outside after having sheltered in the garage.
The orchard quail now have a swanky new hutch in the kitchen garden - joining the kitchen garden quail who have been in their hutch since they arrived in a cardboard box nearly two years ago.
This month has been a good one for birds. The lapwings are here in large numbers - hundreds - there seem to be so many more than there were before. They have to be one of the most beautiful of our British birds. Their elegant shape, their plumage - even their call is enthralling.
At the beginning of the month, on the drive to Thurso, I saw the lapwings again, I also saw a short eared owl, Henny the female hen harrier and a pair of reed buntings. Later in the month, I had my best view yet of Henny. She was sitting on a wall near Lythmore Farm which is across the valley and up the hill from our house. Seeing birds regularly, it's easy to miss their specifics. I glance and see, for example, a female hen harrier, nicknamed "Henny". It isn't until I see her on a wall, quite still and clear, that I am reminded of the beautiful chequered effect of her plumage - the rich brown and fawn - and the size! So much bigger than her suave grey mate!
There weren't many birds about during the storm but, while Ginny and I were walking him and Jess, Orlando spotted a pheasant on October 7th, and two deer too - long before Ginny and I did! Ginny has since been able to take a photo of the two deer.
That day Keith and I went down to Glasgow on the train and I saw a herd of red deer as we were passing through the Flow Country - near Forsinard. There were lots of bunnies pelting away from us as we travelled along the east coast. We don't get many bunnies here at Stempster - lots of hares but few bunnies. As we drew closer to Glasgow, I watched the super moon rising. Quite beautiful!
Aurora Borealis October-style
In October we have two full weeks off school in Scotland. As I write this, the schools in England are closed for just the one week and those here in the Highland Region re-opened on Monday, 27th.
We have been busy all holiday - but a good kind of busy. One thing we did which delighted me was to take everything out of the pantry and clean it of mouse-signs! Judith bunged off three holes and then we put everything back in a user-friendly order - for humans!!
So happy with it!
%20(1).JPG)
Our little granddaughter celebrated her fourth birthday, in France, in the middle of the month and the day dawned beautifully here at Stempster. It started dry and there was a pink band along the horizon at dawn. Our son and daughter-in-law sent exciting pictures throughout the day. The same day, we were visited by a confident woodpecker who really didn't seem very scared at all! He's quite chubby and very handsome - and he's eating us out of nuts! He's a greater spotted woodpecker and he gets bolder by the day - as if he's saying, "Hey, look at me, you humans!"
About that time, we were having interesting misty activity. The mist would linger for a while, then come up close and then retreat. It was the strangest thing really - almost as if it had a mind of its own and it was playing games with us! One day I spotted the mist settled in a band above the burn, with the sheep behind it on the hillside. As it became darker, it rolled up towards the driveway, on the north side of the garage, where Ginny, Judith and Clemency were putting down weed sheets ahead of a delivery of stones the next day.
We've never had a positive identification of a magpie here. Still haven't! However, when we went to Armadale for our flu jabs last week, we saw two magpies together there - not far from the beach. Those are the closest to us that I've seen.
My father was born on 22nd October 1927. He would have been ninety eight last week if he were still alive. Never a day goes by without I think of him. On the day of his birthday, a redwing joined the regular birds at breakfast. It's significant because, in the Isle of Axholme where I grew up, I used to spot them often, blending in with a flock of fieldfares on the fields and grassy areas between Epworth and Belton. Our Stempster redwing has been back since - but this one is quite solitary - although I have seen a flock of fieldfares (felfers in Lincolnshire) flying over the orchard, I didn't think there was a redwing with them. Poor things, a gang of jackdaws saw the felfers off!
Dad and a small me
Dad grew up in Old Edlington and in the Isle of Axholme and served in the RAF just after the war. He spent time in Egypt and Palestine. His eighteenth birthday fell in October 1945. He was a driver in the RAF, often chauffeuring famous military men. When he left the RAF he worked for local produce merchants and eventually, after a lot of hard work, became a produce merchant himself. Our lives changed considerably at that point and Dad was so proud to have made such a change for his family. He was an incredibly generous man and sought to help people by opening up opportunities for them. Sometimes it worked, sometimes it didn't - but he would never turn away someone in real need. Reuben George Temperton, known as George, died September 1986.
Three photos of my father as a young man - Reuben George Temperton 1927-1986 - known to Isle folk as George (Reuben is a family name handed down through many generations - as far as my cousin's son)
The twenty third of this month read two degrees on the machine which I call our Stevenson Screen. I was fascinated by the Stevenson Screens we had at both my primary and my secondary schools. We don't have one here but we do have a radio controlled weather station. It's useful to a point but it's not really a good indicator of a change in the weather until just before it happens. I wasn't surprised that the machine read two degrees on the twenty third. We have been lighting the fire each day for a while now and the stove has sometimes been lit too. The heating has been on in the evenings and a little in the mornings. Yes, winter is on its way for sure! Walking the dogs with Judith, at the end of last week, it very much felt as if the year is closing down. Yesterday Ginny and I walked them and felt the cold north wind biting us mercilessly. The walk began with a "How do you do?" (at a safe running distance) from one of the friendly roe deer and ended with a sure sign that spring will come again - the pale buds setting on the willow trees which edge one side of the drive.
There is a sense of gloom apparent across the globe. There's no denying it. Heartless political groups are infiltrating all aspects of society - persuading those who are easily persuaded - and who have forgotten their common decency - to reject incomers escaping abuse and extermination. It's a poor attitude - to refuse to help someone who is in need. It's at least as bad to persuade weak minded people to abandon their morality.
Conkering heroes!
I can see from my monthly blog stats that there are many, many deep-feeling human beings left - those who can recognise the good in the world and can move forward with love in their hearts instead of hate and loathing. They're the ones who see the signs - like the willow buds on an autumn morning's walk, the seeds, from summer, which have scattered themselves across the garden and the scavenging little feathered friends who will delight us through the winter months until they come together in that beautiful symphony we call the morning chorus. Signs of Spring!
Can't quite reach the door knocker!
I already have a collection of seeds, kindly given to me by friends, for 2026. Inside each tiny seed is hope. I just need to give that hope a chance.
I have a pot of nigella by the kitchen doors. They're almost all dead now of course - but one! It's pink and doesn't look absolutely like a nigella. Even so, it's welcome beyond words.
Might be Nigella
Plans for next springtime are headed by Clemency's aim to fully lay out the meditation garden. She has made an excellent start but everything is now on hold until winter is almost over. It will be a garden by which to remember those we have loved and lost and a place to lose oneself in thought and/or prayer. Rest assured there will be a hydrangea. My father loved them.
Comments
Post a Comment