There is knitting in this post I promise, but there’s also lots of winter colour because if you’re anything like me, you find the natural world and the landscape endlessly fascinating and inspiring. (And if you’re not anything like me, then congratulations on being such a well-adjusted member of society.)
Those eleventy hundred bulbs I planted in the autumn are beginning to reveal themselves and I can’t resist showing you a few:-
Judging by the green fronds poking up all over the place, in a month or two’s time the garden will be a riot of colour.
Quite a bit of snow has fallen on this post, too. It’s been rather beautiful. (The floral pictures were taken today, after the snow suddenly melted.)
In fact, let’s get the snowy stuff out of the way right now. Too many times, I’ve moaned here about the non-arrival of forecast snow with all the emotional maturity of a toddler whose promised chocolate ice cream failed to appear. In most areas of life I can muster a decent impression of adulthood, but when it comes to snow, my developmental progress stalled somewhere around the age of six.
When that little snowflake symbol appears on the weather map, I forget all about sensible stuff, and start obsessively pressing ‘refresh’ on the forecast. Then when, as mostly happens, the snowflake vanishes from the map mere hours before it’s due to fall, I react as though this is some callous breach of contract by the weather gods, and I sulk (because that’ll teach ’em).
But this time, the weather gods were true to their word. The day the snow fell, it was dim and fairly photo-unfriendly. Even the twinnage weren’t entirely impressed. (Hmmm, do you think I should request a maternity test?)
But next day the sun came out, and I headed out of the village and up the holloway. Holloways are ancient tracks, worn deep into the ground by the passage of feet and hooves over hundreds and hundreds and hundreds of years. Here’s ours:-
It was a beautiful day, and the air was fresh and sharply cold. Look at all that virgin snow!
I didn’t have much time (the twinnage needed collecting from somewhere), so too soon I had to head back into the village. There were icicles hanging from the thatched roofs:-
Back at home, the pond was deeply frozen.
But then the snow melted last night, and the tiny, early, flowers could be seen again.
Also, muscari:-
And away from the bulbs, I can’t stop photographing the beautiful hellebore:-
But I promised you knitting, and so knitting you shall have. I spent a few days helping a new-to-knitting friend finish her first project, but now I’m back to work on the underwater/underground scene. I haven’t quite got back up to where I stopped before frogging 14 000 stitches, but I’m nearly there. Soon, I’ll be at the surface of the water, and from there upwards the knitting will be fast. The water is looking better than it did pre-frog, I think:-
So if you’ll excuse me, now that the snow has gone I might be able to concentrate on some knitting again.
Phil x
Thank you for sharing. I love your photos and learned a new word…Holloways. A most awesome word and path.
Thank you. And as for holloways, it’s fun to imagine the people who trudged up here in ancient times.
once again, i love your photos … thank-you for sharing them!
You’re very welcome. I’m honoured that people come and look.
I love your flowers, they look so delicate and yet they are so hardy, as for your knitting you never cease to amaze me. I’m looking forward to seeing it finished!! Sorry you lost your snow, I would send some if I could, we have had snow on the ground since Nov. sometimes more sometimes less, I love winter but the Polar Vortex was a bit extreme even for me!! Always look forward to your posts. Winter can be a little long here in Ontario!
Yikes, I can see that the novelty might wear off a bit after that long. Please stay warm: it sounds crazy-cold over there right now. (And thank you for your kind words.)
My dear young lady – you are an artist, truly and beautifully you capture the world beyond what most see – and then you are so generous as to share it… with your camera, your words, as well as with your needles. I thank God every time I click on your post – so grateful to have discovered you and that you exist. Thank you, thank you, thank you.
You dear young lady – you are a truly gifted artist – with your camera, your words and, of course, your needles. I thank God every time I click on your perfectly wonderful blog – grateful that you exist, that you do what you do, are who you are and that I found you here. Thank you, thank you, thank you.
Thank you for snow on the holloways, and the spring flowers. Such a contrast from where I am in Australia, we are getting 30degrees, but I am still knitting!
Such lovely photos! Just delightful
Talking of holloways have you read”Holloway” by Robert Macfarlane? A really good read and avaliable still (I just checked). I didn’t realise that you had them in Oxfordshire, I’m more used to them in Devon and Dorset. Thanks for the reminder I shall have to go and look I’m sure that we had that book somewhere. Love your photos and the fact that reading your blog always cheers me up ????
Love it. We had the white fluffy stuff too. Love love love it. I’ve to put a feet as first in that snow. Unfortunately that is my first route to the chickenrun early. The girls don’t appreciate it though.It stayed for a whole two weeks and the rest of the country was muttering. First snowdrops are here. It must be so much warmer were you live. Your knitting is stunning. Love the blue surface waterline. I’m sure those boys are yours. Can’t image lookin like a whale with two inside of others ????
There are no documented holloways in Norfolk, something to do with it being flat maybe? They are magical looking tracks in some cases, having looked at photographs of them, mainly found in southern England apparently. Do other areas call them something different I wonder, surely they’re not confined to just a few counties mainly to the south?
Love snow, but got a very thin covering of it. However, brilliant white heavy frosts were equally magical, the early mornings looked so pretty round here.
And your knitting is pretty magical to.. looking forward to the finished article.
Thanks for sharing your photographs.
Ms T your photos are spectacular. I can feel the deep sense of satisfaction that actual, factual, snow has given you this year. I am thinking about going to our local “house” (place where crafts happen and societal things like gardening etc.) to take part in a weekly knitting group. I think if I sit and knit I am going to do it more and learn more as well. I am wearing an actual, factual jumper this morning! I don’t believe it! I think our Tasmanian summer weather is back. We had Queensland weather for most of January and now our 25C temperatures are back I am seriously revelling in them. I love your bulbs. I envy your bulbs. I will send you some of our wallabies and possums for the twinage to inspect so that you have a level playing field. Just sayin’…lovely post, lovely photos, just “LOVELY” all round 🙂 <3
Very envious of your flowers. Minus 18 Celsius here!!
Oh my goodness! Beautiful! I do love late winter / early spring. Your knitting is always so inspiring.
Thanks for your blog! I almost always have a good laugh, gain inspiration and generally enjoy! ????
Beautiful pictures, if a tad depressing. We are months away from crocuses (croci?) here. I need to walk to the yarn store today – it’s -11, brrr.
So lovely captured moment in photographs! Thanks for sharing your fascinating works of arts and stills photography!
Your knitting and the countryside are amazing.
I lived in London, near Holloway ….I wonder if …..
Beautiful blog. I love your flowers, ‘specially the hellebore. They’re not seen much around here (Tennessee).Your knitting is awesome.