Going Batty

OK, we’ll get the obvious comments out of the way for a start: “What do you mean going?” “We thought you were already!”

I’m not actually talking about my mental state (although some think I’m mad when I say I can’t stand Prosecco or have no desire to visit America) but wildlife.

 

I’ve often commented on the varied wildlife that I can watch from the comfort of my little riverside haven and the list seems to be growing. I continue to watch herons, cormorants, egrets, woodpeckers, goldfinches and all manner of birds on the riverbank and in the garden, but recently I’ve been seeing much more.

With the onset of warmer evenings, I’ve taken to sitting out in the garden enjoying the view, armed with a glass of wine (not Prosecco) or gin and tonic, enjoying the tranquillity of it all. It was on one such evening that I had an extra close-up view of the bats. Now I’ve always loved bats (yes, I just keep getting stranger) and have seen a few flitting by in the past, but on this occasion they were circling so low for insects, that they were only about a foot or two above my head! This didn’t faze me (I don’t believe in the old wives' tale about bats in the hair) but fascinated me. To have such a ringside seat was amazing!

But bats aren’t the only creatures that I’m watching on a summer evening. I’ve also discovered water voles! Strange splashing noises from the river alerted me to take a closer look, revealing a dark shape swimming in the water. This shape then made for the riverbank and climbed ashore – a water vole, Ratty himself!

 

Then to add to the list, I was sitting in the garden reading one afternoon, when I noticed something making its way rapidly through the grass heading towards me. As I looked closer I realised that it was a newt that then dashed past me into some nearby shade. Whether it came from the river or a nearby pond I’m unsure, but it certainly took me by surprise.

I’m always on the lookout for the arrival of another seal, having seen one splashing in the river directly in front of the glorified shed last summer. But I’m still waiting...

The View It Is A-Changing

As we approach our first summer at the ‘glorified shed’, I’m aware of how much the rural landscape has changed over recent weeks.

My immediate view of the river, that runs just metres from my window, has been somewhat obscured by the leafy growth of bushes and trees along the edge, which now allow only for mere glimpses of swans, herons and egrets that frequent the water and opposite bank. In turn, the birdlife has changed, with only the seldom appearance of the once numerous cormorants and not the slightest glimpse of a lapwing or redshank in weeks!

The garden area, which burst into life with its spectacular blossoms in the midst of spring, has now become awash with green, interspersed with brightly coloured roses and the golden offerings of the laburnum tree.

And of course the surrounding fields have changed too, many have been filled with the vibrant yellow of oilseed rape (although now being replaced with swathes of green), with its pungent aroma and tendency to trigger my hay fever. Indeed, we’ve all noticed an increase in sniffles since moving to our rural home, a slight downside of country living, but one far outweighed by the benefits of the new lifestyle.

The country lanes have become harder to negotiate, with hedgerows and trees encroaching more on the roads, causing motorists to exercise more caution – and that’s not a bad thing at all!

Once we’ve experienced our first summer here, we'll have had a taste of all the seasons in our rural retreat, each of them bringing a different aspect to the landscape which I’ve loved. The ever-changing wildlife, diversity of colour and altering moods of the river all keep me interested in our rural surroundings.

Living In A Bubble

Since moving here at the end of last summer, we seem to have become increasingly cocooned in our own little world.

Life in suburbia involved so much happening around us – people walking past our home, cars driving along our road, casual callers at our door (the latter sometimes being more irritating than welcome) – all of which constantly kept us in touch with the world at large.

We love the peace and quiet of our new home, but it’s true to say we could become increasingly cut off if we don’t make a conscious effort to connect with the outside world on a regular basis. There are no passing cars or people, no one calls except the postman, delivery drivers and invited guests. Even with the general election looming, we’ve not had the usual flurry of canvassers touting for a vote – just one lone, brave individual that seemed to have found us against all odds.

Of course, we do sometimes see dog walkers on the opposite riverbank and boats do pass by from time to time, but we see far more birds than we ever do people, and we find ourselves living in a state of contentment that often means that we don’t leave our home for days on end.

However, over the last fortnight I’ve had not one, but two short breaks away from home that have reminded me of what’s out there. The first was a seaside break with my daughter and young grandson, staying at a holiday complex on the south coast. I was thrilled that our accommodation turned out to be on the edge of the site, with the back windows overlooking a field of sheep – I’ve become so accustomed to the feeling of space! The seaside town itself was quiet, even more so as it was so early in the season, but the lovely weather meant my grandson was able to experience the excitement of building sandcastles and paddling in the sea for the very first time. It may have come as quite a shock to my system had the surroundings been more urban, or teeming crowds had filled the streets! I had a lovely break, but was pleased to be reunited with my rural surroundings on my return.

The second break merely involved one night away from home, but it was a busy 24 hours, that took me out of my little bubble once more. This time it was a trip for just my husband and me, and involved visiting an art gallery, lunching and dining out and a stay in a comfortable room overlooking a lovely harbour. We spent some time wandering around looking at the boats and the sea – as if we never get to see boats and water at all!

What I noticed about both of these breaks was, that as much as I had enjoyed both of them at the time, I didn’t get the feeling of not wanting to come back that I’d experienced when returning to previous homes in the past. It was lovely to go away, but equally as lovely to come home.

So now, here I sit once again, ensconced in my little bubble, enjoying the tranquillity, but making the effort to be aware of the wider world. I chat to folk on Twitter, keep up with the news, will most certainly vote in the forthcoming election and am continuing my campaign to push for a review of Ofsted (more of this and reviews of my stays can be read at www.shoppersjoy.blogspot.co.uk over the coming weeks).

I love to feel peaceful and contented in my bubble, but I must remember not to become disconnected from the real world!

Five Months On

It’s been five months since we moved out of our conventional, suburban home and embarked on our adventure converting an old workshop into a rural, riverside bungalow.

Technically, we’ve only been living in the building for three of those months, as we spent the summer living in our static caravan on its site in East Anglia. We had planned to bring said caravan back down with us when we came, but a few calculations revealed that we couldn’t get it down the bendy lane leading to our home. So since September we’ve been sort of ‘glamping’ in our glorified shed, pretty well making things up as we go along, and trying to work and live in the same space simultaneously.

Up to now living in these conditions has been quite easy, but as winter starts to take hold, things may get a little less comfortable. It’s amazing how quickly living amongst a load of old workbenches, using a small corner of the building as a makeshift kitchen and visiting a relative for a shower has become the new ‘normal’. But dealing with chillier conditions is proving more of a challenge as some of my previous posts have revealed.

However, the landscape and the wildlife are proving as interesting and entertaining as ever – I can observe so much of nature from my window – with even the grey days offering delightful distractions.

Cormorants can often be seen on the riverbank opposite our home, but usually only in small groups of three or four. But one morning recently, we opened the blinds to be greeted by a line of at least 25 of them looking across at us (or so it seemed). Yes, despite the chills and grey days, the wildlife is prolific as ever, which is a cheering thought.

And now of course, we’re preparing for our first Christmas in our new location. Yes we will be entertaining the usual contingent of my mother, mother-in-law, daughter and grandson, in addition to my other daughter and son that still live with us, but arrangements are likely to be a bit ‘alternative’, shall we say.

Still more on that in a future post. I’m off to untie the shoelace that’s holding the washing machine outlet hose over the washbasin and hunt under the workbenches for something that I know I’ve stored in a safe place! Oh the joys of makeshift living!

Autumn Leaves

Although autumn is by no means my favourite season of the year (that accolade goes to spring, when I get a fresh injection of optimism for the year), there are certain things about it that I do quite enjoy.

This year, I’m even more aware of the changing of the seasons, living in my new rural location. I’ve always loved the colours of autumn, the deep reds and golds of the leaves can be magnificent, and this year I’m certainly surrounded by enough trees to see plenty of these. I must also admit that I love swishing my way through large piles of dry leaves and hearing the satisfying crunch that they make. This comes second only to walking on an expanse of virgin snow, which offers a blank canvas of opportunity and a reassuring ‘crump’.

From a less colourful point of view, it’s sad to see the surrounding fields transformed from the lush greens and pale golds of the summer, to the dull, universal brown created by the necessary ploughing. But I’m extremely fortunate to be surrounded by such an expanse of countryside with all of its colours, textures, sights and sounds, whatever they may be.

The view from my window

Of course with the autumn comes the chilling down of temperatures and the more blustery winds. I confess to absolutely hating strong winds, so maybe being surrounded by trees with the river immediately on my doorstep doesn’t sound the best place to be at times like this, but hey, we have to take the rough with the smooth!

It’s also fair to say that a draughty old workshop isn’t the first place you’d choose to spend chilly nights, but we have plans in place to keep the cold at bay, and will hopefully cope through not only the autumn, but the winter too.

My first autumn in my new, almost home, will certainly be an experience!