Walker Wood bluebells

The last of the bluebell photos, I promise, though they are so lovely. My neighbour tipped me off about an area of woodland I hadn't explored before, near the bottom of the Glen Tramway. It's called Walker Wood, and it has a very different feel from Hirst Woods, with which I'm more familiar. Walker Wood is a continuation of the woodland that runs all the way along the escarpment, from Shipley Glen to Baildon. It's a very steep site, and strewn with rocks and mossy boulders so it has quite a magical feel.

Exploring the woods has been so refreshing this spring, a welcome distraction from all that is going on in our world. I've been trying to find quotes about bluebells; strangely there seem to be few of them. Perhaps even poets have been struck dumb by their beauty.

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.

Hirst Wood bluebells

I have to go and tiptoe through the bluebells in Hirst Wood at least once every spring. They are amazing. I set off one day (about a week ago) when it was cloudy, as overcast light tends to show the colours better. By the time I got to the woods the sun was shining merrily. Normally that would be lovely but I was a bit aggrieved! I'm also not sure whether they were quite at their peak. Sometimes the fields of blue seem more intense. I might try and find time to go back again. They're really beautiful though and the scent is incredible too.

Two trees, two weeks

My favourite trees, photographed just two weeks apart - the top pic was taken on 12 April and the bottom pic was on 25 April. What a difference! The sunshine has really caused everything to go spring mad. It neatly illustrates the impossibility, at this time of year, of keeping my blog really current. I go out, take photos, process them and write up blog posts but then I end up with a backlog of posts lined up. Spring is rather later arriving up here than in the south of England, but maybe it is sometimes further on than my blog would suggest! Eventually the rate of change in nature slows down and it ceases to be an issue again.
It looks like we're losing the blue skies for a period now, though we could really use some rain so I won't complain.

Spring flowers

It's hard to say what my favourite flowers are; there are so many I appreciate. Tulips, however, have to be near the top of my list, for their wonderful variety of colours, their simple, elegant shape and the way that, even as they fade, they pass through a variety of stages of beauty. I spotted the vibrant red ones naturalised underneath some trees, with some pretty blue scilla in the background. The delicate lemon ones below were in a flowerbed beside the top station of the Glen Tramway. 

 I chanced upon these cowslips too, cheerful yellow with those sweet little red spots at the centre.

Nature notes 12 April

A few days of warm sunshine have seen nature ramping up for spring. The geese in Roberts Park have free rein over the grass now there are fewer people sitting around in the sunshine.

In Hirst Woods, the early adopters among the trees - principally the birches, sycamores and hawthorn - have unfurled fresh green leaves. The bigger trees like oak, beech and chestnut are slower to react. The beech leaves are all still tightly coiled like little bronze daggers on the twigs. 

Wood anemone and lesser celandine lift their sweet faces to the sun.

On the south-facing slopes by the river, early bluebells are in flower. Those in the shadier woodland are still a few weeks away from their peak; they have plenty of leaves but few flowers as yet.

The sunshine has made dandelions spring up everywhere, their bright yellow discs looking fresh and clean. They have a bad press for some reason, but unless they happen to be rooted in your pristine lawn, I think they're very cheerful.

And finally, I have heard that the lockdown is having a beneficial effect on pollution and wildlife. Even so, I didn't expect to spot a crocodile in the River Aire... !

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.) 

Spring in Saltaire

It's that time of year again where my ability to process and post photos on my blog is far outstripped by the pace of change from winter to spring. I took this photo on the 20th March, when the shrubs in the corner of the carpark were just beginning to blossom. The plot is part of the Veg on the Edge initiative, that uses bits of 'spare' land to grow fruit and veg for the local residents to help themselves to. In the intervening time between taking the pic and posting it, nature has blossomed even more. How we need the warmth and the colours of spring, after the dreadful wet winter and the horrors of the current global pandemic.

Golden trumpets

At least Spring isn't cancelled. I noticed the recent sunshine has opened up the daffodil buds on the lawn in front of Saltaire's URC church. Rather annoyingly, they all face the church so if you want a photo with the church in the background, all you can see is the backs of their heads! (Oh, I'm so demanding!)  I suppose it must be to do with the sun's trajectory during the day. I'd rather believe the trumpets are sounding a fanfare, joining in with the church congregation. Not that there is one at the moment. A combination of the ceiling collapsing and the coronavirus pandemic has effectively closed the church doors for the foreseeable future.

Camellia

It seems that I must always go to the dentist at this time of year. I know that because I walk to the surgery along a route I rarely take otherwise. On the way, there is a small, sheltered garden that seems lovingly tended by its owners and it has one of the earliest blooming camellia bushes that I've ever noticed. The flowers are a glorious deep pink, so freshly open that they were perfect and untouched by the frost or wind that so quickly turns them brown and shrivelled. My year isn't complete without posting a photo of a camellia on my blog! As for the dentist, I shall be going again quite soon as I have to have my first-ever crown fitted. Boo.

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.

Spring notes for Easter Day

Photographs from a walk around the St Ives Estate above Bingley, on a fine, warm spring day. There are plenty of signs of spring, though everything goes at its own pace.

Primroses in the hedgerows:

 Trees bursting into leaf (this one's a beech, I think):

whilst the oaks are slower to respond to the warm sun:

I'm always glad that our northern hemisphere's spring coincides with the Easter festival. 

There's tangible evidence of Christ's resurrection power all around. 

HAPPY EASTER! 

Cloudburst

That's April for you... One minute it's warm(ish) and sunny and then there's a cloudburst. In this instance it was actually a sudden hailstorm that passed over, as I was driving over the hills near Denholme. The view as the storm moved away was rather better from higher up but there was nowhere to pull the car off the road; this was the first place I could safely stop. Still quite dramatic.

Spring bulbs

Harlow Carr has abundant displays of spring bulbs of all colours, shapes and types. I'm sure they don't normally all bloom at the same time but that's this year for you, so mild and so little frost. Crocus, narcissus and hyacinths, tulips, scilla and some I don't recognise. 

There are some nice colour combinations too. The red dogwood stems are beginning to show leaf but the stems still glow. 

Rhododendrons are in bloom in the woodland. They're rather early too. Many of the bushes at Harlow Carr are very old and have grown very straggly, really past their best but still producing lots of flowers. 

Spring

More pictures from Harlow Carr Gardens.