Monday, September 22, 2008

down at Morewellham 3


This is a small darter dragonfly, resting on some cotoneaster berries, although I am not sure what it is doing (they don't eat berries).

down at Morewellham 2


This is the Tamar, flowing down towards Plymouth, the house is in Devon, and the other bank is Cornwall; these wooded valleys are a remnant of the much more extensive broad leafed woods that covered this part of the world after the last ice age.

down at Morewellham


we spent yesterday afternoon at Morewellham Quay, just across the Tamar valley from where we live. It used to be a very busy commercial port exporting minerals from local mines all over the world and also to France. The afternoon was not a complete success (see above) but it was a lovely sunny day. They even have some surviving Victorians walking around although they look very young to me. For more information try this link to their site.

Thursday, September 18, 2008

I love your blog

thanks to Tara for giving Spot another award; please visit her blog (click on the award) if only to see how much one can do with a simple blog. We are meant to send the award to another seven blogs but we just don't meet that many dogs. Mind you anything to the power seven is going to get very big very quickly. We often visit Laura's blog just to look at the insects in her garden and to feel glad we live on this wet coast rather than that one. Spike, my next door neighbour, has a profile but no pages on his blog; is he one of those dogs who can't do his letters properly?

water mint

commonest of all our native mints, of which there seem to be far too many, used as an early form of air freshener by chucking bundles of the leaves on the floor.

By the way Spot thinks short selling should be made a capital offence.

slow progress down at mill


slowly but surely (see earlier pics) the ruins of the old mill are disappearing as a new house emerges like an exoskeleton around it. The lower photograph shows the old leat (it looks Victorian) emerging from underneath the old mill. It shows how much goes on underneath our feet.