Picking up threads


Mixed feelings about returning to former occupations after the experiment.

The first batch of beach clay is drying off; the weather still chilly, so it is slow waiting,

while the next batch is slopping down:

Tackling the garden under the buds and catkins of the geriatric birch (surviving another season of gales)

The first grass cut is always wearing.  It’s long and saturated and intractable, but there are consolations …

… their dancing presents a challenge to the amateur photographer.




The hammering gales have dropped back. (Click thumbnail for gallery)

I gave in …


… the marketing got me.  This is the freebie.

Bits went missing while the washing machine spun out or I counted stitches on the needle, attention wandering off in Rome and returning to Egypt or the Great Plains.  The chapters were somewhat repetitive, but unfortunately this was often due to the same agricultural errors being repeated … again … and again … and yes, again.  Anyone who ever grew a potato or a pea will understand the importance.

I would have liked a little more about soil as a microbiome, especially as Montgomery was keen to realign soil science with biology instead of chemistry.  An enticing image of bacteria as minuscule livestock on the farm was not followed up, and there was only brief mention of mycorrhizal fungi or even invertebrates (we did get a few worms).

Take home message?  Get composting, folks, and if you have a little plot of your own, be ready to dig for victory when times get tight.



The week was miscellaneous.

The end of an era:

Not the end but near the end, and not looking very promising at the moment:

A beginning:  Beyond New Age is fairly well written:

Holocene  – interesting, but, read in dribs and drabs over a year, it was difficult to keep the large picture in mind.  Good words though – palynology, eustatic, oligotrophic, varves.

Winding up the experiment, I am left with a kitchen in a bag.  It looks so useful, except I can’t think when it will be used:

It’s difficult to photograph things that aren’t there.  Kindly imagine a piano-shaped absence.



Municipal magnanimity


in an Edwardian businessman allows us still to enjoy this for free.  (Click thumbnail for gallery)


There was far more than the eye could digest in one visit.  And I forgot to put anything in the collecting box (which was not shoved under one’s nose at all, and therefore deserves to be filled generously).  And there is what sounds like a really interesting lecture coming up.  Three very good reasons for making a swift return visit.

Back turned to the sea


although it was quite a pretty sea.  I provided myself with a sturdy driftwood plodge prodder and went fossicking for plodge along the cliff line.

The sandstone was not useful

and nor was the iron.

Prospecting marks definitely are useful at decision time; I saw one or two puzzled faces as I walked backwards down the beach making them.

The colours are tempting, but too knobbly to collect.