A moody sky at Sunny Hunny

I’m catching up with some photo editing and these moody sky photos from last month and a visit to my parents, the first since March and since lockdown has been and overstayed its welcome. As there’s storms forecast this week, it seems appropriate to share these now. We may have already had the storms, they could be happening now, or maybe they’re still on their way. If the weather forecasters don’t know, then it’s anyone’s guess isn’t it?

Part of heading to the coast is to see the sea, and as you can see the beaches aren’t replicating the scenes from the south coast. Partly, I’m sure, down to that sky. There were many more people walking along the promenade than I’m used to being around, and initially I balked but everyone was giving people space, but even so we headed to the emptier end of town, stopping at the lookout, well to lookout.

Looking out to sea, over the famous cliffs and trying to work out if the wind farm was visible (only just!).

As ever, it wasn’t long before a couple of plants distracted me. The pink of the valerian and the egg yolk yellow of the santolina, which is another of those plants I should have in my garden. One day.

We headed away from the crowds, skirting alongside the bowling green where the stripes of the neatly manicured grass the clouds somehow looked more dramatic. And we weren’t wrong. As we reached the cafe, just at the end of this green, the rain started. So there really was nothing else for it, an ice cream at the seaside too. We were trapped, you understand.

But thankfully just long enough to eat the ice cream - it was almost as if it was meant to be. Just like the fact that a Norfolk post without lavender can make you question if it’s Norfolk at all, a coastal walk without an ice cream. Yes, exactly.

But really the dramatic skies were quite something. And I was happy to admire them more, from the comfort of being safely indoors, and pretty dry too.

Let’s hope I’m as fortunate with the storms that may (or may not) be on their way.

Industrial views alongside the Thames

Looking back at my photos from our walk along the Thames - that day where we clocked up over 20,000 steps, way more than my what has become usual for lockdown 200 (on a good day!) - I was struck by the beauty of its industrial-ness. And yes, I know that’s not a word, but it seems to fit.

We had great weather for a walk, which started in earnest once we’d reached the Thames Barrier, one of London’s iconic structures. I’ve never been inside, but I have admired from either side of the river many a time.

Perhaps it was the good weather, but even the rusty railings and gateposts were looking good, and I suspect that MOH knew at this point that our walk was going to be one of those with plenty of camera stops.

And why not, especially when most of the Thames Path was relatively quiet, and presented us with views such as this.

Clearly this is still a working part of the river, but imagine its history. I bet it has many, many stories to tell.

Even the graffiti looked more of a work of art rather than vandalism.

When we reached the Yacht Club, I did have a smile - though only cats need to stop here, clearly.

But even though there was the ironwork and industrialism, there was also softer elements. Planting along the Thames Path included vibrant hollyhocks, and even though it was still July, some blackberries.

I doubt there’ll be any left by the time of traditional blackberrying.

There’s a kind of romanticism about the next shot, and not just how the picture’s framed, or even the bikes resting alongside the end of the jetty, it’s owners no doubt enjoying a quiet and beautiful spot.

So much has changed along the river since we cycled along here regularly, but I’m pretty sure that this was the jetty on which MOH proposed, many years ago. A cold February day where he insisted we head out for a walk, and ushered me here. All the time though the weather was worsening and snow was threatening, and I was desperate to get home, little knowing his plans, or how I was wrecking them. Though it all turned out ok in the end.

As we neared Greenwich we realised all this walking was thirsty work, so stopping at the Cutty Sark Tavern (the pub, not the boat) we enjoyed the view for a pint or two.

London really is a great place, and this year many more of us Londoners will hopefully remember to enjoy some of those great spots.

The Rose Walk at RHS Hyde Hall

it was only last month that we went over to Hyde Hall over in Essex. At the time it felt very adventurous, and it’s still one of the few places we’ve visited which isn’t the local parade of shops or to see family. Even when we were in Sunny Hunny last weekend as we got to the front for a walk along the promenade, it was busy, busier than I expected (despite seeing the pictures of Bournemouth beach). I think though the Norfolk wether wasn’t helping, the rain was on its way and many people were heading back to their holiday rental.

But back to Hyde Hall. It rained that day too thinking about it. But not as we wandered through the Rose Walk in the upper garden.

The colours, and the scent especially was intoxicating.

And there was plenty to admire. Wildflowers sitting happily alongside these more peony varieties.

And a clematis or two too - just look at the colour of this one.

There were bushes with individual blooms, the one below is probably my favourite, even now looking back at my pictures.

But what amazed me was the multiple headed and clusters of roses in full flower. And more than double the scent.

I can smell them in my head now as I’m typing this post, at some point soon smelling some roses in real life would be most welcome!