The Real Autumn

Autumn in the UK

I am constantly looking at pictures on G+ and on other sites of groves of trees with multi coloured leaves blazing in their autumn glory. The picture is most always taken half way along a lane with a few shadows on the ground or trails of sunshine flitting through the branches and leaves. Or another is being on the side of a tranquil lake looking over towards a deciduous forest crawling up the hill on the furthest bank.

All that can be seen is a natural mosaic of reds, browns, and copper. Surrounded by golden yellow that has the power strong enough to hurt your eyes in the bright sunshine. This is all taking place under a blue sky without a trace of cloud 

You are looking at death, because the leaf has had its half year of life. The leaf will not die a silent death because it shouts “Now look at me and stand back in awe.” The tree is taunting you with its beauty, because for six months you called it that old oak, beach, sycamore, birch and ash.

Those leaves that gave you shade during those hot days which you took for granted are leaving this world in a blaze of glory. Soon all that will be left is a naked tree with their branches reaching to the sky.

Are they giving thanks to Mother Nature for their time on earth, or are they praying for a short winter and an early spring.   

Mingled between these naked branches that are heard crying in the hard winds, there are still the odd evergreen trees. Now because of the death all about them their true beauty of their various greens can now be seen. Each green is as different as the clouds in the sky, but only now can you see them flaunting their magnificence.

 These trees are the life and soul of winter giving fruit freely to those birds and animals that are left to suffer the harshness of the frost, beating rain and snow. 

The close branches of green needles giving shelter to birds that failed for unknown reasons to fly south to warmer climates. The holly,the yew and rowen tree berries.  Red, and standing out like beacons to break the monotony of the evergreen foliage.

Autumn is not pretty and the sun very rarely shines in the UK in autumn, and if it does there are strong winds, heavy rains and in some cases frost and snow. The sky is in most cases a dirty grey with the trees in a mist.

 Those leaves that hit you in the face have probably not just fallen off the tree. In most cases they have been blown up off the dirty road or out of the wet hedgerow, autumn is a time of death and the dirtiest time of the year. It is just that we never take stock of the things that surround us only those things that please the eyes.

Autumn is a time when the nights draw in and the darkness comes that much sooner, to make us thankful that we are indoors. Near an open fire where everyone is wishing their lives away, as they beg for those warm summer days to return. We only see the beauty in nature and not the harsh realities and if we do? Then it is a blink of the eye in the timeline of our beautiful planet.

Be Well Ian

A walk in the Woods.

I feel blessed with the fact that I live in part of the English countryside that has the best of all types of nature and scenery. On the first day of May this year I pushed the pain from my trapped spinal cord and my arthritis to one side and walked through one of the three woods that are within fifty meters of my home. Since my wife died seven years ago I have not had her forcing me to do those jobs she felt had to be done today. It has however given me a great deal of spare time that until the last two years I had found difficult to fill. To all my readers you know that I have been writing throughout this time, and last year I started photography once more. I have found my love of the nature that is about me once more, not that I had ever lost it.

Walking in the country side has almost become as extinct as the DoDo. The reason being that everything in the world now is fast, and television and games on the internet have taken over. Sixty years ago a walk in the country was a great experience and family event, but now it is a trip to the cinema or a meal eating in one of the fast food establishments. No longer do courting couples walk in the countryside to talk about their expectations, it is all done in the night club or during a drunken night at a friends party. The basics of life and the art of talking have all but disappeared into the past that is moving away with the same speed that technology hits us all in the face. We are now losing the beauty of the nature about us to the bottom of a wine glass and the mysteries of the text buttons on the i Phone.   

Now back to my walk that was in a way very good eye opening that I will now take you on. I walked the road to the gateway into the wood over the roadside stream, and to be really honest it is no more than a running ditch that never dries up. The first thing I noticed was the multitude of flowering plants that littered the perimeter. I had my camera with me and decided that photos of wild flowers were now going to be part of my wild life collection.

There was an eerie silence as I doubled back on the inside of the wood following the road. In many spots there were still the primroses that always dot the ground in their vivid yellow on their dark green bed of leaves. I have always felt that the primrose is the queen of woodland and roadside flowers. There are always a large amount of heads looking up at me, and begs the question. Have I ever seen a primrose head by itself?

.

There was another species of flower that I almost missed as it sat on its own just under the dead brambles from last year. It was the sweet violet and because of only the one tiny flower among its heart shaped leaves I almost missed it.

Further along there was a surprise flower that is normally found in the garden. The distance away from any type of garden led me to believe the seeds of this flower were carried there by either birds or the winds. There could have been someone here before me a few years back with the seeds tucked in his clothes. It was nice to see the Forget me not, hiding behind a tree, and on getting closer there was two more, but smaller plants.

As I turned to walk back to the ditch/stream crossing I saw three flowering Bugle plants almost hidden by the deadwood about them. They were a flower that I have seen many times but until then in the lens of my camera I had never taken much notice of them. Like most other people that have only passed them by on their way to the stunning groups of Primroses. It was not until I pulled this flower closer with the lens when I could see that it had the same amount of beauty of any bright coloured flower. I had seen this flower many times but until this my mission to find the nature around me, I never gave it the time it really deserved. It was also not until I returned home and looked up it up that I found its real name.

Then I saw one of the most common of all flowers hanging its head with the weight of its crowning glory. The Bluebell is the flower that I always associate with this time of the year. Although this flower was on its own, I knew that deeper in the wood the ground between the trees would be now covered in a carpet of blue. However, at this point I was happy with this lonely pair of flowers standing proudly showing their beauty.

It was while I was photographing the Bluebell when I saw out of the corner of my eye a flash of purple. I walked past the bluebell to see a Purple Orchid standing alone. These are also a flower that I have seen many times, but in most cases they have been mixed in the multitude of Bluebells. I have tended to think of them wrongly as an off colour Bluebell, but today I intended to give this eye catching flower close scrutiny. The thing about taking these pictures is the fact that the flowers are still in their natural habitat when you return to look at them in more detail.

I was still making my way back with a tremendous amount of caution. My eyes were darting all about me but now I was returning to the bridge closer to the road on the far edge of the woodland. I nearly stepped on this tiny flower without seeing it, and it was only saved by my glasses falling from my pocket. This tiny little flower that was no bigger than a Forget me not, was just an inch away from the tip of my shoe. It was a tiny pink flower that I found out later was a Herb Robert, and it was another wild flower that I had never taken notice of.

On looking to my left I could see a large patch of small white flowers that turned out to be Wood Anemone. There were many but almost lost in the sea of Bluebells covering the hill.  On stepping onto the brow there was a mass of blue flowers with little white dots for almost as far as the eye could see.

I would go no further today as I had already taken over two hours shooting these eight wild flowers. To find such a great amount of different wild flowers in such a small area is nothing spectacular. However, what is spectacular is the fact that I have taken time to look, find and identify each one.I will give you an idea of the area that I walked to see this wild garden of beauty. All of these flowers were in an area of twenty feet wide by less than thirty yards long. 

These flowers I must admit to my shame are flowers I had looked at on many occasions but had never seen. They have most probably been missed by all that have passed them, and the reason is the people that passed them have not been looking for them. People will spend great deals of money each year to make their gardens look nice to show their friends. 

What they are missing is the vast array of natural beauty that is most probably no longer than a dog walk away. It is free and it was given to mankind to look after, but at times it is abused by the lack of interest or the fast lives that many caretakers of nature lead. The flowers are passing through life no less that we are, but when we die there are grave stones to show our passing. The flowers we take for granted have nothing, and when that last Bluebell—Daisy—Primrose fails to be reborn. We will only have ourselves to blame for our negligence. Mankind as a caretaker will have failed in its most basic of tasks to look after the world we live in.

Be well Ian