Into every life a little rain must fall

Today’s guest picture comes from our son Tony. On his way from East Wemyss to West Wemyss today, he took in this charming view.

We woke up here to find that a little rain had indeed fallen into our life, but sadly it was just a very little rain. It had dampened the surface of the soil but done nothing more. It did make a pretty pattern on a web slung between the fake tree and the hedge beside the bird feeder.

I got my new camera to take a closer look.

This could get a bit addictive.

After breakfast, I pruned the plum tree, (or should that be plummed the prune tree?). We don’t want it to get too tall,, as it is hard enough to pick the plums as it is. I noticed that something had made an awful lot of holes in the leaves . . .

. . .but I couldn’t find any evidence of what it was.

I put down my lopper when Dropscone appeared for coffee. He had had to walk round as he had slipped over on the golf course while looking for a lost ball last weekend and he had injured his wrist. This had ruled out cycling.

He had a letter from the doctor saying that his wrist hadn’t been in very good condition before he had fallen on it. The general thrust was, ‘try not to fall on it again’. Sound advice. He wasn’t even looking for his own ball when he slipped, so he felt a bit hard done by. However, he was very cheerful under the circumstances, and I was pleased to find that his catastrophe hadn’t affected his ability to turn out tasty scones.

When he left, I finished pruning the plum tree and shredded the prunings. Then I had a look round the garden.

There were quite a lot of raindrops entangled in the no-mow lawn grass . . .

. . . and more had been entrapped by an inula.

The smooth surfaces on the lone fuchsia flower had shed most of the drops . . .

. . . and the latest dahlia had only collected a few.

I cycled up to the town to try to get new supplies of bird seed as I am running short. I was a bit upset to find that the shop had run out altogether. I will have to come back next week. I will need to ration the seed for the moment, as I don’t have a lot left. I have been saying to myself for some days now that I needed to get more seed but, as usual, I hadn’t listened.

When I got back, I noticed a fine bunch of pixie cup lichens on the edge of the drive . . .

. . . and then went in.

Mrs Tootlepedal went out for lunch and while she was gone, I checked on the birds and found that they had already done a good job in lowering the number of seeds in the feeder.

It was a very green day with greenfinches and siskins the only customers while I watched.

Before I had my lunch, I used the excellent Royal Mail online facility to address and pay for a parcel which Mrs Tootlepedal wanted to send away. Then I cycled up to the visiting post office in the Town Hall and posted it.

That was the extent of my exercise for the day.

I should have gone for a cycle ride in the afternoon, as it was an unusually still day, but I haven’t been sleeping well for the past few days and I felt quite tired. It was all to easy to sit down and watch the Tour de France as it draws near to its conclusion. Mrs Tootlepedal came back from her lunch and joined me.

When it finished, we went out for a gentle bit of gardening. I nodded to one of the many young blackbirds in the garden , . . .

. . .and then sieved a load of compost. Mrs Tootlepedal sowed some ground cover on the empty early potato bed. She was joined by a collared dove.

After composting, I picked some raspberries. Our crop is coming to an end, but it has been very good and we have been forced to eat quite a lot of raspberries and cream as well as making some jam.

Then I wandered about for a while, and among the fine cultivated garden flowers . . .

. . . and I saw that a tiny hop clover which I had planted in the mini meadow had flowered.

This came from a packet of mixed wild flowers which Mrs Tootlepedal had sowed in plugs in the spring time, so it is very satisfactory to see it come up in the mini meadow as intended.

I saw a little dunnock creeping across the lawn and a large rook flying overhead.

I heard an enormous bumble bee zoom past me and settle on a dahlia . . .

. . . and I spent quite a bit of time trying to get good shots in rather poor light of insects visiting the phacelia. You can see why it gets the name ‘fiddleneck’. I like the picture even though the little green bug in it is hardly visible.

The nasturtiums are plotting to take over the whole wall of the house.

We went in to Zoom with my brother and sisters and then enjoyed a light evening meal. I am hoping that the quiet day will help me get a good night’s sleep.

The flying bird of the day is a greenfinch, absolutely appalled when it heard about the shortage of sunflower seeds in the town.