….On My Window ( Tina Turner.). Sadly that’s about all I’ve seen so far this morning, as is often the case Mother Nature is making up for lost time. After the prolonged dry spell of the summer the last few days ought to have gone some way to redressing the balance. The local brooks, streams and rivers will be full to overflowing by the end of the week so stand by for scenes of flooded pasture and raging torrents over the weirs.

Taking this morning’s picture from the warm and dry conservatory I was reminded of all the times as a child when I’d stand and watch the raindrops on the window, waiting for gravity and physics to drag the raindrops down the glass, they almost seemed to be racing each other in their haste to reach the bottom of the window pane.

There’s something hypnotic about the rain, as long as you’re not actually out in it, the rhythmic drumming of it on windows or roofs has a soporific, pacifying effect whilst watching it splashing off surfaces on it’s earth bound journey. Not so much fun if you get caught out in it, or worse still have to work in it. Earlier this morning I saw a group of water board workers about to start work on a verge locally, before they’d started they were wet and muddy, I’ve no doubt it would be a long, cold, miserable day for them.

As I’ve been sat here typing this the weather has taken a turn for the better, the rain’s stopped and there’s a rip in the cloud cover through which there’s even some blue sky, the afternoon may not be a total washout after all…..now, where’s my wellingtons?

In the brief window of weather between the thunder, lightening and downpours that we’ve had today I wandered down to visit my four legged friends in the yard. They were all in their boxes, contentedly chewing hay, and all wearing their coats. It seems that the change in the weather, being colder and wetter, has necessitated a ‘cover up’ and who can blame them.

I leant on the half open doors of each stall in turn, at first my presence was far less important than the hay they were consuming, but, being the creatures that they are the hay was soon forgotten and each of them came to say hello, to snuffle and snuggle, check my pockets and my camera bag for potential offerings and , when they discovered there were no offerings, they seemed content just to enjoy the fuss and the company.

For all their size and majesty they are incredibly gentle, they are, like most animals, wonderful company and a real pleasure to be around, why on earth there are some in society that would actively go out of their way to hurt or harm them is beyond me. I certainly wonder for the sanity of such folk, then again, nothing much tends to surprise me nowadays, for all that we are told that society has moved on there are more than enough examples that would indicate that we’ve not moved on at all.

That said, half an hour in the company of my equine companions was a breath of fresh air, time well spent on a damp and dismal day, I shall look forward to the next occasion.

It has well and truly broken. Yesterday’s overnight rain which ran well on into the morning appears to have been the precursor to a very wet and windy new week. For a brief moment this morning it looked as though we might escape the incoming weather front but by mid morning the grey, heavily laden rain clouds had moved in and, as the weatherman cheerfully said at lunchtime ‘It’s in for the afternoon’.

So it is, as yesterday, here I am writing this to the accompaniment of the rain beating down on the conservatory roof once more, the same dismal staccato drumming which only varies depending on how hard the wind blows at the time, I’m rather glad to be indoors. I don’t envy anyone who has to be out and about in it this afternoon.

Having said that I would anticipate that some of my fellow photographers will be out and about doing their thing and doing their best to record the scenery as it happens. I stand in awe of those hardy souls who venture to the coast on a day like today, the wind and spray must be relentless, I salute their efforts and admire their handiwork. I will only be offering moderate fare by comparison but will endeavour to continue with a watery theme.

Early last week I wandered down to the weir and the eel runs at Fiddleford, the water level was so low that I’m sure I could’ve walked across without getting my feet wet, yesterday the flow had returned to a more normal level, if the forecast for the coming week is correct I would imagine that the water level will be way up and crashing over the weir, it makes for a dramatic scene given that it’s not the world’s biggest set of falls. ‘Watch this space’ as they say, but for now it’s very definitely an afternoon to be indoors in the dry.

Well, they said a change was coming and come it has, with a vengeance. After the glorious sunshine and warmth of the past week this morning the weather has reverted to type, I’m sat here composing this latest edition and listening to the rain drumming on the conservatory roof. Not that we don’t need the rain, it’s been woefully lacking during the summer months and the fields, gardens, rivers and lakes have suffered accordingly.

Just two days ago I was wandering in the early morning mists and warm sunlight, today, well, I might struggle to get out at all if things don’t improve. Whilst I enjoy a good walk and positively love photographing the glorious countryside I am not overly enamored to getting wet for my efforts although a good shower does tend to make everything look fresh and rejuvenated again. We’ll see, Sunday is traditionally a day for a walk, time to take stock of the past week and to refresh the spirits for the coming one so I may well find myself out and about later.

I’m hopeful that this morning’s rain is only a temporary blip in proceedings, September and October are such beautiful months when they’re given the chance to shine and if the rains set in early they’re likely to spoil things, I’d like a chance to photograph Nature doing it’s spectacular Autumn show before the colder, darker weather means I have to focus on different aspects. It’s not that there’ll be nothing to see and photograph, far from it, it’s just that I may have to think about things a bit harder whereas at the moment there’s an opportunity at every turn, though I do quite like the bleakness of the winter months as well.

I think the rain’s stopped, I can’t hear it at the moment, is this a window of opportunity or just a temporary halt in hostilities? If I venture out will I get to stay dry or am I likely to get caught in the back of beyond with little or no shelter? Well, the great outdoors is calling, if I don’t go now I may not get the chance again today so, gotta go, see you later, wish me luck!

Another shot from yesterday morning for today’s musings,it was such a spectacular sunrise ( and one that I actually got out of bed for ) that I took quite a few shots knowing that it might be some time before, either, I made it out at the break of day, or, the conditions might be as good.

The sun coming up and lighting the vapour trails of the jet high above, the mist hanging over the river, the dew glistening on the grass and hanging in droplets off the gate, England’s green and pleasant land at it’s finest. I’m sure I’ll feature one or two more from this series over the next few days as almost everywhere I pointed the camera there was something spectacular to see and capture.

In all I was out and about for a little over an hour, I walked perhaps a couple of miles at the most, I took in three locations and had a lucky change of heart halfway around which resulted in an interaction with a family of swans at the local millpond, not to mention disturbing the resident heron who took off and flew into the mist looking ghostly, silently gliding on giant wings into the mist and the silence.

I’m sure that conditions this morning would have been very similar. I looked out just before dawn and the sky was showing all the signs, glowing pink, but I decided against going again, it would have been hard to better what I’d already seen the day before, almost to the extent of being mildly disappointing which would have been a shame, far better to enjoy what I’d already got.

SURPRISE!….that’s what I thought as I tumbled out of bed this morning pre-dawn. I’d almost forgotten that there was such a time of day. The last few days of amazingly clear skies and bright sunshine have been threatening to bring some mist to the vale and with the threat of rain by Sunday I thought I’d better take advantage of the conditions if at all possible.

In a former life seeing the dawn was a weekly event, two earlies, two lates, two nights, four days off, around and around and around. I enjoyed working nights, despite what it does to your body, your diet and your sleep pattern. I enjoyed it because it gave you the opportunity to enjoy the dawn, to watch the change in the night sky as the sun began to rise towards the horizon. The pre dawn with it’s intense colour, it’s oranges and darkest blues is a magical time, that, coupled with the silence, is a sight to savour and behold.

And so it was this morning. I rose and wandered off in the half light, the sky already colouring, no traffic, no-one else, just me and the odd early bird warming it’s voice hidden in the hedgerow awaiting the warmth of the suns rays after the cool of the night. I wasn’t disappointed, the colours intensified as the sun crept ever higher beneath the horizon until it finally burst through the tree tops and began to flood the river meadows, tinging the mist with it’s orange glow.

Down at the mill I shared the scenery around the millpond with a pair of swans and their cygnets. The pen and her brood were calm and serene as they swam silently along the edges of the pond, intent on their early morning foraging, the cob hissing and spitting protectively as I set up my camera on the bankside but as soon as I’d settled he calmed down and wandered back to his brood before finally gliding off across the pond and into the thickening mists as the sun struggled to penetrate the dark edges of the early morning scene. All in all a great start to the day and certainly well worth getting out of bed for despite the ungodly time of day.

In the clear, cooling, late evening sky the sun slowly dips beyond the beech avenue and throws shadows across the landscape turning the humble cow parsley into delicate silhouettes that dance on the gentle evening breeze.

After a long day out yesterday and an evening in company there was no time to post, well, it would have been ridiculously late to post so I held the record of Tuesday evening’s walk over for today.

A late evening stroll along the track and permissive path up to the farmyard and on up to the enormous beech avenue in the cool of the evening was magical. The warm sunlight through the trees, the calling of the rooks as they circled high above the trees heralded the end of another glorious, late summer day as they settled to roost for the night. Everywhere, and everything else, still and silent, I didn’t see another soul in the time I was out.

Looking out across the Blackmore Vale house lights dotted the landscape, indicating some human presence. Whispy, white plumes of smoke curled lazily upwards in houses where the cooler evening dictated that fires were lit in hearths that hadn’t been used all summer, the autumn’s on its way.

Living here in the depths of rural Dorset we’re blessed with a plethora of lanes, bridleways and footpaths that take us in all directions and yet all lead somewhere and from there to somewhere else and so, in no time at all , you’re never far away from a landmark or a location that you know. Getting lost is not an option.

This particular lane , bounded by high hedgerows, leads to fields with expansive views east and west, you can stand at the end of the lane and watch the sunrise or the sunset depending on whether you’re an early bird or a night owl, though, with the year moving along at a rate of knots, you don’t have to be too early or too late to accomplish either.

It’s a view that I intend to savour over the coming season, the hedgerows will turn from their current state of green to yellow and gold and eventually to brown as the leaves bear the brunt of the change in the weather and experience the first frosts which will kill the production of chlorophyll and hold the growth of the plants over the winter months until next spring.

It’s also a view that might just disappear for ever, regardless of season, as the surrounding fields are earmarked for development, there are plans afoot for housing which is sorely needed in the area. It’s a sign of the times, not necessarily a new phenomenon, development has always taken place as population increases, people need somewhere to live, communities need to grow or they will stagnate and die and while the loss of habitat and scenery is never without loss in the short term both nature and humanity adapt over time.

So, for now, I will continue to enjoy this little lane with it’s expansive views, it’s lonely, dead tree and it’s high hedges. I will look forward to seeing the leaves change colour as Autumn takes hold, enjoy the frosts decorating cobwebs and cow parsley, possibly even trudge it’s length under snow, undoubtedly ( given British weather ) I will walk it in the rain. I will enjoy it to it’s fullest for as long as possible and then adapt and walk another to take in the wonderful scenery that nature bestows on us.

A Summer’s garden, a classic book, bee’s a buzzing and a babbling brook. A long cool drink and time to think, to fantasise, romanticise, to reminisce of times, of places and things we miss…..

No Shelley, Keats or Byron here, no words that on a page appear. Just thoughts arising during walking, like unseen conversations talking. No poet or literary giant I while walking under wondrous skies, just simple fare of rhyme and reason whilst out admiring passing seasons.

To see the rise and setting sun, to smell the earth when rain has come. To feel the frost and his hoar crown and watch the tumbling flakes fall down as ice cold winds turn rain to snow and leaves turn brown and golden glow.

No poet, just a simple man, whose ramblings might scan and meter….on the odd occasion!

After two days under canvas I was beginning to get cabin fever. I promised myself that this evening, come what may, I would get out in the fresh air, capture a sunset if there was one to be had and just enjoy the peace and quiet of the end of the day after a weekend in the company of approximately 10,000 people at the local show.

After clearing up and putting away I drove out a couple of miles and settled on a site above the Stour flood plain with a clear view across the valley westwards where the setting sun was disappearing into Somerset and beyond.

From my vantage point on the ridge above the stubble field I could see a man walking his dogs, a couple of black Labradors with boundless energy darting here and there, content with each others company while the owner stopped to take in the same spectacle as myself.

As he ascended the bank it was evident he was also intent on capturing the last vestiges of the day with his camera and we stopped to exchange ‘F stops’, ‘apertures’ and ‘shutter speeds’, talking to each other but avidly watching the light show through respective viewfinders while the Labradors played on until the light dropped away, the dogs became bored and the young man and I talked more and photographed less until finally the light had gone and the day was done.

All that was left was a hearty handshake, an exchange of names and a parting of the ways, Alex and his Labradors on along the ridgeline and myself back to the warmth of the car and the short journey home. It’s been a weekend in the company of thousands for hours but none more enjoyable than those last thirty minutes of daylight in the company of one man and his two dogs.