Hobbits, Habits and Rabbits

The moon is hanging on to its dominance over the sky with the morning star in attendance as the sun rallies for control over the tree tops. One might swear Shakespeare is lurking here at 7:00am and 7ºC this clear April morning at Chartwell.

One might also be forgiven for thinking so, if one was standing next to me at this moment (with gumboots against the frosty grass), because the surrounds are indeed so crisp, quiet and Shakespearean.

The trees are all dressed in Autumn uniforms, with a huge proportion of their leaves having been shed in preparation of the imminent June winter. Obviously the evergreens are the obstinate delinquents, who have no firm beliefs in these things.

(Above): One of my favourites – an intricate pattern of branches: quite possibly a painting artist’s dream?

(Above): I have indicated that I am not much of a knowledgeable gardener, let alone anything resembling an arborist, but this tree has undergone an amazing transformation in the past month or so. You do not need to be an expert in tree matters to be able to appreciate the changing beauty of nature.

(Above): Not far from Goat Hill, I stumble on this small clump of field mushrooms. I have also seen numerous colonies of larger brownish-fawn ones on other days.

 
(Above): I am not a knowledgeable mushroomist either, but the neighbours have told me to stay clear of those with white undersides, and that brown undersides are Ok. These have white undersides, so I will leave well alone – I am not really that fond of mushrooms… By the way, an expert in mushrooms is known as a mycologist, but I didn’t want to appear too Shakespearean so early in the morning…

(Above): This guy growing nearer the pine trees, is silvery. Drat – white is bad, brown is Ok – what about silver?

(Above): I finally reach the object of my stroll – this is my proposed Winnie The Poo retreat. Why I call it this will become obvious at a future date. On the southern side of the driveway we have a small copse, which, up to now has only been used by the dogs as a hunting ground. Hunting for what? Who knows? Maybe hobbits or rabbits, but they’ve caught neither so far.

 
(Above): My Hobbit Tree, with its interesting brown bark. I have cleared a narrow walking pathway which goes past the Hobbit Tree, so that he is always close by.

(Above): It is almost impossible to walk anywhere in the property without a dog being within a few yards. Here Sophie is investigating whether anything untoward may be lurking in the undergrowth. No rabbits here, she reports. I want to cover the black soil of the pathway with chip and bark to give a drier and cleaner underfoot experience.

(Above): I was thinking of converting this little path into a sitting / talking / thinking / reading / doing absolutely nothing retreat. It will disturb the minimum of plant life, is cool and totally secluded, protected from wind and rain. A bird feeder would probably be much appreciated here – there are a few cute little fantails which frequent the copse.

If anything develops out of this idea, you’ll surely be hearing about it here.