Looooooong walk. Many photos
Nothing urgent to do today, so I decided to take the hounds to look for bluebells.
We found some wild garlic. Brythen already looking a bit oppressed, because he doesn't like insects, and it is now warm enough that there are buzzing things about. I shall have to see if I can fin some sort of repellent that he can wear, I think, it's sad to see him not enjoying his walk. :-(
These cottages are pretty, but I mostly like them for their very sensible Hobbit name: New Houses. Given them, presumably, a hundred or so years ago, when they were new.
We headed up through Comfort Wood. It was comfortably warm, but there were no bluebells. (There were a couple of what I now discover were medieval mine adits and a spoilheap, but alas, they were so buried in foliage that I didn't recognise them as Random Mines. Oh well. Being medieval, there doesn't seem to be any other record of them except that they existed.
Comfort wood used to be a market garden area, and there are still strays from the old gardens among the woods. This is my absolute favorite narcissus, the Pheasant's Eye narcissus, growing wild beside a stream. I should get some Pheasant's eye narcissus for the garden, it occurs to me.
Out of Comfort Wood, and up the route of the old carriage track towards Newton Farm. A sign proudly declared that an avenue of historic cherry trees had been planted, but I have to say that I did not notice the flowering cherries, so much as the ENORMOUS cages that had been built to protect them. Normally this field has horses in it, so I suppose the cages need to be quite tall to protect the trees
But today, there were no horses, only sheep. I was impressed by how confident the sheep were and lingered taking photos of them...
Until I turned around and discovered that one of the sheep was not just confident, so much as over-confident, and had come cheerfully up to poke her nose at the dogs. She was so close to me that I accidentally photographed her bottom as I grabbed the dogs harnesses, worried that they would leap on her.
Fortunately, our sheep training practice payed off. Neither dog barked or lunged or tried to bite Madam Overfriendly. In fact, Rosie seemed to like her and they kissed noses and did side by side sniffing, as if Madam Overfriendly had been a big dog! Brythen was less happy, he thought she was Just Too Close and so I had to take him swiftly away.
Finally some bluebells! But Brythen still not very happy, for there were bees.
I like the shape of this little oak tree in the hedge, with the hills of Dartmoor in the distance.
This field was empty, so it was time for Rosie to do some zooming about.
Good view of the odd little triangular tower from here. I've spent years walking in this area and never seeing the tower except in the extreme distance, but recently, I took an unexpected turning and ended up in front of it. Since then, it has suddenly become much less shy, and keeps popping up all over the place.
Rosie Doing Recall. And poor Brythen worrying that the spots on his feet might be flies...
So THIS is where all the bluebells were hiding! Here in the Danescombe valley, bluebell season is in full swing : it seems strange that Comfort Wood in the next combe up the valley is stll firmly in the time of the narcissus.
At this point, I felt that we'd probably been walking long enough (we had been out perhaps three hours) and should make our way home. Rosie disagreed. I had to persuade her that it really was time to go home now...
Poor loyal Brythen. 'Please can we go home now...?'
Back past the house - Cotehele is partly medieval, partly Tudor, and since it now belongs to the National Trust, dogs are forbidden to approach. Fortunately, there's a public footpath that goes right in front of it, and anyone can walk a public footpath, whether human or canine.
All they can do is fence us in, and nobody can stop us peering over the fences at the view and admiring the gardens.
Back down to the quay (this area is all dog-friendly, hurray!) and the old Tamar barge Shamrock was having a bit of a party. They were selling raffle tickets to buy her a set of sails. I hadn't realised she did not have any, poor old girl, but I suppose that her original set would be very definitely worn out by now. She was built in 1899.
We found some wild garlic. Brythen already looking a bit oppressed, because he doesn't like insects, and it is now warm enough that there are buzzing things about. I shall have to see if I can fin some sort of repellent that he can wear, I think, it's sad to see him not enjoying his walk. :-(
These cottages are pretty, but I mostly like them for their very sensible Hobbit name: New Houses. Given them, presumably, a hundred or so years ago, when they were new.
We headed up through Comfort Wood. It was comfortably warm, but there were no bluebells. (There were a couple of what I now discover were medieval mine adits and a spoilheap, but alas, they were so buried in foliage that I didn't recognise them as Random Mines. Oh well. Being medieval, there doesn't seem to be any other record of them except that they existed.
Comfort wood used to be a market garden area, and there are still strays from the old gardens among the woods. This is my absolute favorite narcissus, the Pheasant's Eye narcissus, growing wild beside a stream. I should get some Pheasant's eye narcissus for the garden, it occurs to me.
Out of Comfort Wood, and up the route of the old carriage track towards Newton Farm. A sign proudly declared that an avenue of historic cherry trees had been planted, but I have to say that I did not notice the flowering cherries, so much as the ENORMOUS cages that had been built to protect them. Normally this field has horses in it, so I suppose the cages need to be quite tall to protect the trees
But today, there were no horses, only sheep. I was impressed by how confident the sheep were and lingered taking photos of them...
Until I turned around and discovered that one of the sheep was not just confident, so much as over-confident, and had come cheerfully up to poke her nose at the dogs. She was so close to me that I accidentally photographed her bottom as I grabbed the dogs harnesses, worried that they would leap on her.
Fortunately, our sheep training practice payed off. Neither dog barked or lunged or tried to bite Madam Overfriendly. In fact, Rosie seemed to like her and they kissed noses and did side by side sniffing, as if Madam Overfriendly had been a big dog! Brythen was less happy, he thought she was Just Too Close and so I had to take him swiftly away.
Finally some bluebells! But Brythen still not very happy, for there were bees.
I like the shape of this little oak tree in the hedge, with the hills of Dartmoor in the distance.
This field was empty, so it was time for Rosie to do some zooming about.
Good view of the odd little triangular tower from here. I've spent years walking in this area and never seeing the tower except in the extreme distance, but recently, I took an unexpected turning and ended up in front of it. Since then, it has suddenly become much less shy, and keeps popping up all over the place.
Rosie Doing Recall. And poor Brythen worrying that the spots on his feet might be flies...
So THIS is where all the bluebells were hiding! Here in the Danescombe valley, bluebell season is in full swing : it seems strange that Comfort Wood in the next combe up the valley is stll firmly in the time of the narcissus.
At this point, I felt that we'd probably been walking long enough (we had been out perhaps three hours) and should make our way home. Rosie disagreed. I had to persuade her that it really was time to go home now...
Poor loyal Brythen. 'Please can we go home now...?'
Back past the house - Cotehele is partly medieval, partly Tudor, and since it now belongs to the National Trust, dogs are forbidden to approach. Fortunately, there's a public footpath that goes right in front of it, and anyone can walk a public footpath, whether human or canine.
All they can do is fence us in, and nobody can stop us peering over the fences at the view and admiring the gardens.
Back down to the quay (this area is all dog-friendly, hurray!) and the old Tamar barge Shamrock was having a bit of a party. They were selling raffle tickets to buy her a set of sails. I hadn't realised she did not have any, poor old girl, but I suppose that her original set would be very definitely worn out by now. She was built in 1899.
