Now the clocks have gone forward, the weather in Lymington has changed for the better. Obviously it’s going to be plain sailing and unbroken sunshine from now on until the clocks go back again in the Autumn. No, really, it’s like that every year, that’s why people love living here.

OK, I’m back from a short trip to Denial where the weather’s always nice and find the sun actually is still shining. I reckon we’re owed it after the last few weeks which have sorely tested the water-tightness of the new new front door and the fixing of the roof slates. Good news is the door seems to have passed so far, we are beginning to be guardedly optimistic.

Cat is definitely of the fair-weather persuasion, and has only just started to look interested in going out again this year although that may well have now been brought to a premature halt. She ventured out recently through the brand new cat flap provided especially for that purpose in the construction of the new sun room, only to be ambushed by a rather frisky young cat recently moved into the area. By frisky I mean playful, but unfortunately Cat didn’t quite see it that way, took umbrage and proved she knew exactly where the cat flap was located, and at some speed. We may have to wait for a more formal introduction.

Being a very keen gardener, well I very much like looking at it anyway, I can always tell the onset of spring, it’s when the lawn guy starts cutting the grass again. We also get all the small birds deciding they have had enough of warmer climes or whatever and would really rather we fed them. It was much the same as last year until a significant flock of Siskins (Carduelis spinus) took up residence in what is now known as the ‘Chirping Tree’. I realise that for those of a certain age, that will have uncomfortable echoes of that rather bizarre and troubling children’s tale, The Singing Ringing Tree which used to be on children’s TV a long time ago. If you remember it, my apologies for bringing it up. Anyway twenty-odd Siskins get through an awful lot of seed in the passage of twenty four hours, so much so that we are now buying in bulk. Of course the fact that knowledge of a free meal has spread around the local rookery has also contributed to a significant rise in consumption, but we are seeing less finches who don’t seem to like the crowds. Less is relative, we still get most flavours, just not so many. We do still get quantities of Tits of all persuasions, the inevitable Blackbirds, Thrushes, Woodpeckers, Nuthatches, and fully expect this to increase in variety as the year goes on.

Whilst it isn’t exactly resident, we are also visited on occasion by a Sparrow Hawk which although not being the biggest of the Raptors, makes up for it’s size in speed and efficiency. Last year we saw it take a Blackbird fledgling which had wandered out from cover, but were amazed this year when it took a wood pigeon. It didn’t seem to have much difficulty in actually killing it, it was the picking it up and taking it off which demanded rather more energy being rather larger than itself. But take off it did, barely clearing the lowest part of the garden perimeter en route. We await it’s next visit with some interest.

As a result of my last post, I got an electronic communication from the Pettifer family, late of Milford and now resident in the wonderful kingdom of Oz. Why would you do that, move from the Solent coast to someplace where the sun shines, you can actually swim in the sea and every day is a barbie day? Baffling. All the best on your first anniversary!

Been an interesting time recently, what with hospitalisation of the MiL and her subsequent return chez nous at roughly the same time as half term brought a welcome visit from rellies. Fortunately I had won a family ticket for Beaulieu Motor Museum at a men’s breakfast event at our church. I know, you should have a church with such prizes! Anyways, it meant my sister’s family could visit free of charge, although due to aforementioned return of MiL, we were not able to go with them. Oh well, I guess the museum ain’t going any place, I’ll just have to win another ticket.

Fortunately the extraordinary weather held for the next day and we were able to go for a wander to find some ponies for niece to look at during the afternoon. Big fan of ponies is the niece. Now if you want to be reasonably sure of seeing ponies, and truthfully they aren’t that hard to find, then Whitefield Moor to the west of Brockenhurst is a pretty safe bet. So long as it isn’t raining too hard then you should get to see ponies in numbers and most likely some pretty large cattle as well. The fact that there is often an ice cream van in the Whitefield Moor car park during peak periods isn’t exactly a deterrent either. In fact unless you really are there to see ponies, the Whitefield car park is the best place to start as you get a choice of two gentle circular walks which cross the river and meander alongside it before returning.

We however had to see ponies, so we stopped at the smaller unnamed car park just outside Brock in order to walk along the moor. I say it’s unnamed mainly because I have never noticed a name and no local maps seem to be of help. Anyway it is in fact the first turning on the right as you get to Whitefield Moor which leads off to camping and caravan sites. Having seen the requisite number of correctly shaped quadrupeds (sans horns), we then felt obliged to take a turn around the longer of the two walks in anticipation of a significant intake of tea and flapjacks on our return home. I say longer, it’s only 1.5 miles so it’s hardly a polar expedition, but it’s a pleasant walk and quite far enough on the day.

Walking back to the car gave us one of those views the Forest is so good at this time of the year. The one where ground mist appears in open spaces between trees and given an ethereal quality by the late afternoon light. Does the soul good to see it.