Blogging Sunday

 I've become a convert to the joys of Sunday.  OK, I know that any day off work should be considered joyous, but I've always questioned the point of Sunday a little bit, especially compared to the exuberance of Saturday, the king of days.  But recently, I've changed my mindset, and have established a new way of doing Sunday, discovering along the way just what a wonderful day of the week it is.

The morning begins with a leisurely linger at the breakfast bar, reading the newspaper, and enjoying freshly baked breakfast pastries, along with a glass of chilled cranberry juice.  I'm making sure that I start every Sunday in this manner; it's a lovely way to wake up.

After the long wake-up, we head out into the woods for a dog walk.  Schnitzel doesn't exactly require extensive walks, but she does need some exercise, and our local woods is the perfect place to do it.  I love the woods, and I love watching the woods change through the seasons. Today it's very leafy, but in a few short weeks the Autumn will take hold, the leaves will fall, and the character of the woods will become darker and more mysterious.

Back home, and after a light lunch, we do a bit of play with William.  He's already growing up fast, it's difficult to understand where the weeks are flying by.  Sundays are the perfect day to spend some quality time together.  You can see him trying to comprehend his surroundings more, his attempts to raise his hand if you wave at him, and the way he tries to focus on the things before his eyes - be them a picture book, the TV, or the fish tank.

As the day moves ever onwards, it's time to think about dinner.  One of the things I love most about the weekends is the increased time you can devote to cooking.  Just yesterday I made a lovely loaf of granary bread, but today's specialty is a tasty roasting dish - diced potatoes, onions, chorizo, sweetcorn and feta drizzled in olive oil, sprinkled with paprika, and left to roast away for an hour.  When it comes out the oven, I throw on some soured cream, then serve up with tortilla wraps and a colourful side salad.  Delicious!

The day ends, and climbing into bed, I can look back and say that I've had a good one.  The rain rattles down outside (we can hear it too, because in the summer months we tend to leave our balcony doors open all night) but indoors all is well - William is asleep in his crib, Schnitzel is dozing on our duvet, and as peace descends, there's a golden chance to delve into a book - which for me, right now, is this beautiful edition of Death on the Nile.

Sundays may have just become my favourite day of the week - a perfect antidote against the stress of the modern world, and a day to enjoy being a family together.  I could certainly get used to this being one seventh of my life! 

Suddenly Summer!

Well, it's certainly the case that nobody can complain about the bank holiday weather this time around, as we bask in blue skies and full sun, whilst enjoying the all ever-rewarding three-day weekend.  So far this weekend (for 'tis only Sunday evening) we've been quite predictable - a trip for lunch in Torquay, lots of quality time spent in the garden, and a long and rewarding walk in the countryside today.

It was actually one of the most enjoyable walks I've ever been on, as we left the front door and headed over the hill towards the Teign Estuary.  The footpaths and public right of ways here are quick to leave the suburbs, and we were soon strolling in delightfully Devonian lanes, high banks giving way every now-and-then to field gates, from which one leans to take in spectacular views.  The banks were thick with scented English bluebells, stitchwort and red campion, to the delight of all manner of butterflies - peacocks, orange tips, speckled woods the most abundant.  Even better, when we paused at one gate to admire the vista, we noticed a rustling going on at the foot of the gatepost, glancing just in time to see the back half of a grass snake disappear into the undergrowth.  No time for a photo, but certainly a great wildlife moment for me - it's the first wild snake I've ever actually seen.

The lane here eventually wends its way to the village of Netherton, which looks like a lovely place to live, contains many a thatched cottage, and is home to the Mare and Foal Sanctuary at their idyllically-named Honeysuckle Farm.  We soon found ourselves walking through fields of rescued horses and, true to form, Lizzie was soon saying hello to one friendly equine.

Netherton behind us, we eventually came across the estuary, and Coombe Cellars pub, which was in its element in the midday sun.  Sail boats drifted by, people were paddling away in canoes, whilst others looked on from the shore sipping their drinks and watching the world go by.  We found a spot in the shade, and as we listened to the waters lapping the shore, I had the distinct feeling that I was on holiday.  Could you possibly want to be in any other part of the world on such a day?  I couldn't imagine it.

Moving on again, our walk turned from the lovely countryside, and we followed the Teign estuary - still tidal at this point - back towards Newton Abbot.  The walk here follows the historic Templar Way, although they're being a bit liberal when they call it a footpath, for here were slippery rocks and big trees blocking our path.  Nonetheless, it's a very lovely aspect - looking across the water we watched trains come-and-go, whilst up the estuary was the very familiar shapes of Hay Tor and Saddle Tor, and the hills of eastern Dartmoor.  Eventually we reached the A380 road bridge, under which we passed before picking up the Aller Brook, which guided our way home.  A six mile, four-hour adventure that we would both do again in a heartbeat, and no better way to spend a sunny Sunday in our wonderful part of Devon.

A lazy hazy summer morning in Babbacombe

The bridleway to Coffinswell

September is often a beautiful month, and here in South Devon, the season has offered us some of the year's best weather.  Cloudless blue skies, albeit with a little bite in the air, has prolonged the gardening season, and really encouraged us to get out and make the best of it, before the impending Autumn falls, and Winter's grip returns.  On a crisp and stunning Sunday morning, we left our front door and headed up into the Woods, destination Coffinswell, a little village a couple of miles away.

At the top of our little housing estate lies Ben Stedham's Wood, a sliver of woodland separating the estate from the back road to Torquay.  It's a lovely wild area and a little haven for wildlife - particularly, at this time of year, fungi.  I don't have much knowledge of mushrooms and toadstools, but their shapes and sizes fascinate me, and this year we have been especially blessed with sheer variety, noticing them both in our own garden, and elsewhere.

Ben Stedham's Wood

Fungi in the woods

The woodland gives way to a bridleway, from where the walker or rider can either head north towards the Teign Estuary, or south to Coffinswell.  Turning south, we pass hedgerows of ferns and young oaks, in which perfect spider webs have been weaved, shimmering in the sun.  Like fungus, I have noticed a proliferation in spiders this September, and webs straddle every space, crossing every path back in our garden.  

Perfect spider web

Lying just off the bridle path, a lesser-known archaeological site is a reminder of the area's ancient connections.  Milber Down Iron Age hillfort sits some 2,500 years old, once inhabited by people of the Dumnoni, the ancient British people who inhabited what is now Devon and Cornwall.  The hillfort itself is not easily distinguishable to the untrained eye, and could easily be overlooked as nothing more than a grazing site for sheep.  Aside from the gentle, overgrown ramparts, the site offers fabulous views over Newton Abbot, from which I spy many of my childhood haunts - Highweek church in the distance (we used to call the downs there the Mountains,) Decoy Lake, and even Seale-Hayne College, now part of the Dame Hannah Rogers Trust - all overshadowed by the omnipresent moors.  If ever one view could encapsulate the word home, then this is surely it for me.

Milber Down in Hutchinson's Diaries, 1853.  Source: Devon.gov.uk

Newton Abbot

Back on the bridleway, we seem to move through several landscapes at some pace.  Woodland gives way to a view of the South Devon link road, under-construction and a big talking point in the town.  Further along still, we overlook a quarry, before suddenly finding ourselves once again back in the middle of the countryside, with rolling green fields ushering us ever closer to the Coffinswell village.  I haven't been to Coffinswell for a number of years, and certainly don't remember it being so pretty.  Thatched cottages and lovely little gardens greet us, and we nose over the low walls with interest to see what the locals are growing.  My favourite garden, although I had not the nerve to so audaciously take a photo, took pride in two enormous purple echiums, no doubt bought from Plant World just up the road, where they are grown each summer (and I fully intend to get my own, next year.)

Beautiful cottage in Coffinswell

Another Coffinswell dwelling

The end point of our little walk is the Linny, the lovely village inn dating from the 14th century.  A very happy welcome within, a drink on an outside table, soaking up the sun and country atmosphere, a reminder to me that when the world is in this sort of mood, there really is nowhere else I'd ever wish to be.

The Linny, Coffinswell

A lovely front garden in Coffinswell

High Rippon Tor

I tramp o'er the moors in the fresh morning air,

The breeze in my face, so bracing and rare.

Deep golden gorse amidst heather I saw,

Whilst climbing "up over" high Rippon Tor.

The track through the bracken on velvety turf,

Grey rocks, lichen-cover'd, and red-brown earth,

Wild shaggy ponies that graze on the moor

Watch me climb "up over" high Rippon Tor.

Whortle berries brushed with purple-hued bloom,

Their leaves vivid scarlet, and all attune

With ling and trefoil bespangling the moor

Like a patchwork carpet o'er Rippon Tor.

The views from the crest are a joy to behold,

Peak'd hills and far distant tors they enfold,

The sun-touched sea shines all bright like ore,

As I stand right atop of Rippon Tor.

Violet Francis

Stunning Streatham

Being in the employ of the University of Exeter means I'm lucky enough to work in a very beautiful part of the city.  We frequently enjoy the grounds of a sunny lunchtime, but for a more in-depth look, we took a weekend stroll - with Mum and Terry - to sample some of the many delights on this most extraordinary campus.

What I like most about this campus are the many little pockets, easily missed if you're in a hurry or don't stop to look, that teem with all manner of life.  First stop, Reed Pond, is a lovely setting, really just a stone's throw from the main road into the city centre, but somehow of another world.  I adore the arboreal backdrop, the duckweed sitting softly on the water's surface, and the stunning dragonflies that skim across the surface, a sure sign that wildlife is alive and well here.

Reed Pond

Through the trees and up the hill sits Reed Hall, an Italianate mansion donated to the (then) Exeter Technical and University Extension College by former Exeter Mayor, Alderman W H Reed, in 1922.  Back then, this was Streatham Hall, but in recognition of the Mayor's generosity, the hall was renamed in his honour.  Surrounding the hall, some of the grounds team's finest work goes into the stately gardens, so that they are always kept up-to-date, in colour, and ready to impress.  On display last weekend, white alyssum and blue ageratum, apparently designed to represent the colours of the University (although on a recent tour, the Scottish head of grounds told us he liked to consider it the Saltire.)

Reed Hall gardens

Reed Hall

Onto my personal favourite part of the gardens, to the plantation running roughly parallel to Stocker Road, but with views and an atmosphere that leave you believing you're in the density of a rainforest.  You'd be hard-pushed to know that the watercourse here is actually man-made, so delightful and natural is the landscaping, the slow trickle of the stream competing only with birdsong on an otherwise silent campus.  Where the plantation yields, so views are afforded across another pond, in an almost-exotic aspect, and just lovely in the hot summer sun.  I have walked down this footpath so many times, in every season and in every weather, and every time it offers a slightly different experience.  Today it's a red admiral butterfly, resting easily on a leaf (although, to my misfortune, it takes wing as soon as my camera lens comes close.)

Pond on North Park Road

Moving on, we take a moment to enjoy the colourful planting around the Library and the Stocker Road entrance, before visiting the wildflower meadow, which sits in the centre of Streatham Court.  If the number of bees is a good indicator of wildlife value, then this square is terrific - it simply buzzes with life.  We've been cultivating our own wild patch at home, so this makes an excellent reference point for us.

Planting outside the Library

Wildflowers at Streatham Court

We end our little tour by wandering up Taddiforde Valley.  Known to be full of colour when the magnolias blossom in spring, on our visit it's a more subdued, welcome pocket of shade.  The birdsong once again flutters through the air, and there's a definite feeling that not only are we on the edge of the campus, but also on the very borders of the city itself - for beyond, the fields roll away into mid Devon.  And this was always the joy of Streatham Campus for me - it's a short walk into the city centre, and an equally short walk into the countryside.  How many other top universities can boast that?

Taddiforde Valley

Taddiforde Valley

A lovely little tour around a stunning campus, which makes me feel very lucky to have at my fingertips, every day of the week.  For gardens that the public can visit and wander around for free, I simply don't think it can be beaten.  You can see the latest updates from the grounds team on their Budding News blog.

Down Buckfast way for an otter day

Lizzie's birthday is soon upon us, which offered a stark reminder that I still owed her last year's present.  Back in June 2014, I gave Lizzie an otter experience - that is, a morning with one of the keepers at Buckfast Otters & Butterflies - but with a mortgage application, then the winter, I never actually got round to giving it to her.  A quick phone call, a couple of weeks ago, changed all of that, and so we trotted off down the A38 on a slightly muggy Saturday, Lizzie dressed in wellies, ready for a morning with some of the sweetest creatures in South Devon.  Readers of this blog may remember a previous trip to Dartmoor Otters and Buckfast Butterflies in September 2013 (click here to see that post.)  We love the place - it's a real genuine, caring, old-fashioned establishment where the people - you can tell - put their heart and soul into the upkeep of their enclosures, and the welfare of the animals.

Of course, there aren't only otters in Buckfast, and after dropping Lizzie off for her keeper experience, I took a stroll to Buckfast Abbey, home of an active benedictine monastery.  Buckfast Abbey is, in my mind, about the most spiritual place in our area.  Its tranquility consumes you as soon as you step through the gates, and there's an air of natural, peaceful safety that I just love.  The gardens, whilst not extensive, are absolutely charming, captivating even, in the warm light of the sun, now gingerly poking through the clouds.  The bountiful lavender garden thronged with bees, the sensory garden, fragrant in the morning air, and my favourite, the physic garden, home to culinary, household, medicinal and poisonous plants, based on the traditional monastic garden.  A small pond surrounded the poisonous section, and contained what at first splash appeared to be fish, but on closer inspection were in fact newts.  Delightful!

Buckfast Abbey gardens

A Buckfast Abbey bee

Lizzie, meanwhile, was having the time of her life, cleaning otter poo and preparing otter food - fish, chicks, and minced beef.  Returning from the Abbey, I caught up with her just as she was about to do the first feeding, of Asian short clawed otters.  As the photo below demonstrates, it didn't take them long to climb all over her and let's just say, she handled their fishy licks a lot better than I would have!  You don't tend to realise just how beautiful otters are (I've only ever seen an otter once before in the wild) but they are stunning creatures, brilliantly adapted to their natural environment.  Lizzie's tour continued on to European otters, and culminated in a North American rivers otter, 20-year old (and recently widowed) Splash who, despite her great age, seemed to have a voracious appetite, and strutted around her enclosure with a sense of worldly wisdom.

Feeding Asian short-clawed otters

There is, of course another reason to pay a visit here, for inside a spacious and steamy hothouse, myriad tropical butterflies (not to mention terrapins and beautiful koi) fluttered freely from plant to plant, some with wingspans the size of your hand.  I fell instantly in love with the Blue Morpho butterflies from Costa Rica, whose wingbeats are almost hypnotic to watch, and are just so perfectly formed.  In fact, I was so intrigued and interested that I ended up buying a book, The Illustrated World Encyclopedia of Butterflies and Moths, which is stunningly illustrated, and now sits pride-of-place on the coffee table.

Stunning Buckfast butterflies

We certainly came away from this little corner of the county, feeling like we'd got the most out of the morning; and hopefully the opportunity to get up close to these elusive river creatures will live long in the memory for Lizzie.

Lizzie with otter keeper Tim - thanks for a great day Tim!