The quiet eye

'In common things that round us lie

Some random truths he can impart,

The harvest of a quiet eye

That broods and sleeps on his own heart.'

Those lines were written by the poet William Wordsworth in the early 1800s (A Poet's Epitaph). I'd argue that they are as applicable to a photographer or an artist as a poet, perhaps more so. I'm interested in photography as a 'mindful' practice and lately I've been seeking to slow down and notice the 'common things that round us lie', often to be found in the smallest details. Here is the 'harvest of a quiet eye' from a recent walk. 

The pretty blue egg shell is, I think, a blackbird's egg. I couldn't tell if it had hatched properly and been discarded from the nest or been damaged by a predator.

Spring is beginning to segue into early summer. The hawthorn blossom is fading, the 'candles' on the horse chestnut trees are at their peak (cue lots of sneezing from me!)

In Trench Woods, along Shipley Glen, the lichen covered rocks and old tree trunks are sometimes almost indistinguishable from each other; trees have embraced the terrain through which they grow.

Then there's evidence of man's activity: an old gatepost stands in a field like a prehistoric standing stone in miniature.

Young calves were as curious about me as I was about them. Look at him! Big ears, whiskery nose, eyes perfectly set to see forwards and sideways. Not the most beautiful face, though perhaps his mother loved him...

Floating or beached?

I've shown this little fella before. He's the first (or last, depending on which way you're walking) of the quirky cast-iron sculptures on the Aire Sculpture Trail. They are based on designs by children from the local Wycliffe Primary School and were made by Mick Kirkby Geddes. The sculpture trail brightens up a footpath that runs along the river bank from Baildon Bridge to join the canal towpath beside the New Mill in Saltaire.

On the same walk, I passed under all the hawthorn trees along the Coach Road. At the moment they are thick with blossom and rather beautiful.

In theory, I could now be making excursions further afield, since the UK government have eased some of the lockdown restrictions. I'm biding my time though. There are still no cafés or pubs open, few public toilets or other amenities. It seems a little premature to start exploring again, when the virus in this country is barely under control. Although I'm getting bored of walking the same local routes, and I sometimes don't know whether I'm floating or beached, much like the little chap in the top picture I'm endeavouring to make the best of it and to stay safe.

May abundance

The cherry blossom has its brief days of glory and then shatters in a confetti of petals on the ground. Thankfully that isn't the end of nature's treats because, hot on its heels, comes the clematis. One fine specimen scrambles over a wall right in the middle of Saltaire's residential streets. It brings pleasure each time I see it.

Meanwhile the woods are still frothily full of wild garlic, its delicate blooms looking so much like lace tossed carelessly on the ground. It smells oniony and I rather prefer the fragrance of bluebells, which are in flower at much the same time. Occasionally the two intermingle prettily but more often there'll be swathes of white and swathes of blue in adjacent but separate drifts. Those below are both in Northcliffe Woods, bordering the path up the wooded ravine in the south of the park.

A six mile pick-me-up

I usually walk three miles or so in my local 'lockdown' exercise strolls. Sometimes that doesn't feel enough, either because the weather is so nice or my mood is so sombre or I just feel cooped up, so occasionally I will set off for a longer ramble. All three of the reasons applied the other day - and, despite the weather being so lovely, it took me at least half of the distance to start to feel lighter and more at peace with the world. I find the restrictions are having a kind of numbing effect; I'm not depressed but I feel rather muted.

My route took me east along the canal to Buck Wood and then off down a track that crosses the River Aire via a footbridge, towards Baildon. The route back is along the river bank for much of the way. It passes through a little nature reserve, where a pond has been constructed. It was a peaceful place to linger a while, watching the birds. They know no restrictions, busily getting on with nesting and courting.

There is plenty of blossom everywhere, so very pretty. Look how the sepals on these flowers (below) are pink, peeling back from the white petals. Each individual bloom reminded me of a dancer.

By the time I got home I found I'd walked about six miles, and I did feel better for it.

Riotous

Given that I love this time of year when all the trees are in blossom, I count myself fortunate to live in an area where there are many mature ornamental cherry trees. Their blossom is riotous, extravagant, explosive and wonderful against the very clear blue skies we've been enjoying. (Is the intense blue a positive spin-off from the coronavirus lockdown? Less pollution?)

The tree below isn't in a very scenic spot, slap bang in front of some utilitarian social housing flats but it is beautiful to behold at the moment.

Evening light

I've found there are fewer people about in the village and in Roberts Park in the early evening so sometimes I go out after dinner for a short walk as the sun is going down. (It's more restful when you don't have to worry about 'keeping a social distance' and dodging people.) The attractive golden light in that last hour before sunset often highlights slightly different views too.

Backyard blossom

I'm taking a stroll most days through the streets of Saltaire village. It seems wrong to waste both the lovely spring weather we've been having and the daily exercise slot allowed under the lockdown rules. I'm probably getting more exercise than I usually do, in fact. They always say that during WWII the population became fitter, since war rations provided a more balanced diet than people usually had. This may be apocryphal... However, I do wonder if the current lockdown may have a beneficial effect too, as people get more regular exercise, have time to cook and eat fewer takeaways. Anyway, I digress from what I was going to say, which is that every time I go out I notice something 'new' and on this occasion it was a pretty spray of blossom tumbling over a fence.

Chim chim cheree

Oh, a touch of Mary Poppins: 'chim chiminey, chim chim cheree' - came to mind as I noticed Salts Mill's chimney prettily framed by one of the dark pink cherry blossom trees on Saltaire Road. Maybe in a few more days the blossom will be even further unfurled but I wanted to take advantage of the sunshine to get the photo. It may not last!

As I walked further up the hill, white blossom trees softened the wider view. Talking of white, I've noticed the stone of the mill chimney has started to look very white lately. I think it must relate to the repointing work that was done a few years ago. I guess some of the mineral salts have started to leach out of the mortar.

The village blossoms

Spring blossom is beginning to break out in Saltaire village. There are a few small trees scattered about, despite the tiny gardens. I love this time of year, so much fresh promise. Saltaire is quite an attractive village anyway but the blossom really adds to the prettiness. 

(These photos were taken a week or so ago and no doubt things have moved on again.) 

An abundance of blossom

I love the frothy abundance of white spring blossom but sometimes a straight photo doesn't do it justice. Here I've played with layers and blends to try to recreate that full, blossomy feel.

Spring?

It's been such a mild and damp winter that signs of spring are already appearing. I've got miniature daffodils in bloom in pots in my garden. On a recent walk, I noticed the hedgerows are filling with blossom. There is a type of cherry plum that's usually the first to bloom so that is probably what this is, though I'm not 100% sure. It's very pretty anyway, and a welcome sight. Snowdrops have unfurled too - a February flower but a little early, even so. The growth could all be knocked back by a cold snap. We've had no snow here so far but it's not unheard of in March or even April so there's time yet!

The trees are still colourless and the footpaths are all very muddy and brown, squelchy with leaf litter. There is some bright colour to be found, despite the grey and damp. I noticed some vibrant moss on the roof of an old farm building.

On the edge of the village, a householder had made a cheerful display of brightly coloured pots, rather Mediterranean in feel, I thought.

Welsh Wildlife Centre, Cardigan

Wales: It was a good walk from our flat upstream along the River Teifi to the Welsh Wildlife Centre and Teifi Marshes Nature Reserve - a return trip for us, as we enjoyed a visit the last time we were in Wales. Run by the Welsh Wildlife Trust, it has hides looking out over the river and areas of marsh and reedbed. It's popular and you would no doubt see more if you went early or late in the day, when there'd be fewer disturbances. Nevertheless we were pleased to see a little egret fishing. We saw them occasionally on the estuary outside our flat but this one was much closer.

The hides are all named and in the Kingfisher Hide we saw... a magnificent grey heron:

and - would you believe it! - a kingfisher. That was a real thrill. We watched it for quite a while as it was sitting on a branch and then diving for fish. It was too far away for a good photo (my lens isn't long enough and this is heavily cropped) but it's the best image I've ever got of a kingfisher. I don't know why they are so exciting as they are not uncommon on our rivers. I guess it's their vibrant colour and the speed with which they move, so that you rarely get more than a glimpse of a flash of electric blue.

After that excitement, it was time for a coffee in the Visitor Centre, though I stopped to capture some pretty pink hawthorn, which is much rarer than the usual white blossom.

The Visitor Centre is an imaginative glass and wood structure, with a nice café on the upper level and a shop and educative displays lower down.

Wonderful wisteria

I spotted this gorgeous wisteria in bloom, tumbling over a wall in Saltaire. It's a pity the blooms only last for such a short time, as they are rather wonderful.

Shibden Hall Park

By the time we arrived at Shibden Hall, the sun had come out and the sky was an intense blue - but it wasn't a lot warmer! We skirted the house this time and headed down to the boating lake where there is a nice café. Coffee and cake warmed us up a little and we were able to rest our aching legs before the long walk back - up and over the hill again!

There are still masses of daffodils in bloom everywhere. They seem to have lasted a long time this year. Some trees have blossom and some have new vivid green leaves.

I noticed the first native bluebells too, on south facing slopes. They're rather early. We usually expect to see them in May, not April. Let's hope they last as long as the daffodils and we can really enjoy them. They too are such an intense blue.

Candyfloss

Here's another exuberant froth of pink cherry blossom, like candy floss. This is in the Wash House garden, on the site where once Saltaire's public baths and laundry used to be. They weren't used much, apparently, and were eventually demolished, probably in the 1930s. The little garden is maintained by green-fingered volunteers, who keep it looking neat and beautiful .

Saltaire pink

This tree has such a lovely froth of pink blossom. It's on Albert Road, in front of what I think are probably my favourite of Saltaire's many different cottages and houses.

The glory of the garden

Here is a selection of the photos I took of individual plants at the Himalayan Garden. The magnolias were beautiful. They seem to have largely avoided frost damage this year, perhaps due to the late arrival of spring. 

Rhododendrons are the star of the show, and there were more colours and varieties than I've ever seen anywhere before.

Some of the juxtapositions were inspired, like this bright yellow tree against the showy red rhododendron.

Himalayan blue poppies, which I've also seen at Harlow Carr, are apparently quite difficult to grow but seem to be getting established here as well. 

I'm not sure what any of the plants below are, but I though it an attractive grouping. 

And of course, cherry blossom and our native British bluebells are welcome signs of spring.