Colourful beach huts and houses

My view is that you can’t beat a bit of colour, and that’s just what we got on a walk along the beach recently. There were pastels and stripes, patterns and bold colours, every which way, beach huts and houses, and today here’s just some of them, in case you need a burst of colour - I’m pretty sure that whatever colour you want, you’ll find here somewhere.

Whether it’s pastel stripes, or the more bold bronzed effect next door.

Maybe something more subtle, with a blast of teal topped off with an orange crab? Or a more creative approach with this geometric pattern of green, yellow and pink, which despite it’s zaniness is actually one of my favourites.

It was great to look along the row of beach huts and get that blast of colour, the blue skies helped too.

But it wasn’t just the beach huts. The houses which edged the beach walk were getting in on the colour palette too. I liked how they didn’t match, but didn’t clash either.

Further along things got a little bit more flamboyant, which some pebble art incorporated into the bay window. The pink railings were a winner for me, the drainpipe less so though (in case you were wondering)

Each of the pebble art in this row of houses depicted a different fresco, which meant I walked along this stretch of beach path looking left, instead of towards the sea, or even ahead. Buy you can see why, can’t you?

We walked to the end of the path, which had turned to boardwalk somewhere along the way, and ended up retracing our steps for the last section, before heading inland to return to the town. As we did the weather started to turn, but even so this pretty passionflower shone, and reminded me I no longer have one of these - another to add to my plant list!

Even the now greying skies couldn’t detract from the pretty-coastelness of the white painted fence and clap-boarded house. Just like our walk in the woods more recently, this trip to the coast filled a longing, I wasn’t even sure I had.

Remembering nature on our doorstep

It’s all too easy to forget what’s on our doorsteps isn’t it? Even though in lockdown and since we’ve stayed relatively close to home. For us it’s easy to remember Greenwich Park, and of course Blackheath. But even so there’s bits of those we rarely visit. A few weekends ago now, we took an overly long walk to the shops around the corner. Partly to get out, and partly to see something a little bit different as cabin fever started to take hold, and of course ultimately to pick up supplies.

It threatened rain, but didn’t quite manage it. It had been raining and there was a distinct whiff of autumn in the air. The wet leaves were golden, and glistening started to confirm this.

We headed into Blackheath, stopped for a long overdue look at ‘my tree’ and then headed on into the private estate for some serious house spotting - something we did often when we first moved to the area - then through Blackheath Village and our plan was to go onto the shops. However once we were out, and as the rain was holding off a new plan was formed.

We were very tempted to stop for a pint in the pub edging the Heath (which you may know as Blackheath Common - something we never call it), but we didn’t. Instead we headed straight for Greenwich Park, entering through the gates you see runners streaming out of on Marathon days, of course, sadly not this year though. Turning right we were in the Flower Garden and it wasn’t long before the fungi on the bark had me curious.

It really was a peculiar pale pink colour. It’s not just a reflection of the brightness from the flowers below, which despite their raindrops were ever so vibrant.

As it was a day of unplanned plans, we made another unplanned move. Instead of taking our usual route to the shops, we headed into a part of the Heath we rarely visit, and which we refer to as Vanbrugh Pits. It’s a wilder space, with a huge dip in the middle. It’s not open, and not somewhere I’d walk through on my own.

But it was worth the detour. I’d forgotten its wild side, and forgotten the gorse it was home too.

It’s just as well we’d forgotten about this though, or else you’d be experiencing many, many more gorse shots here. I’ll try to resist, well at least a little.

Remember 'my' tree?

It’s been five years since I last dedicated a post to ‘my’ Paulownia Tomentosa, which is crazy. I mean five years. Though of course you may think it slightly more wacky for me to be writing about a tree, and to call it mine!

But anyway, on our long walk to the shops the other Saturday we ended up walking past the tree which I followed for a year. And it was kind of nice to be back, a bit like visiting an old friend, though of course it hasn’t really gone anywhere (nowhere at all in fact) and I could have stopped by at any time.

It was strange, yet familiar, to be back. The straggly, tall branches. The leaves as big as your hand.

But also, for possibly the first time fruit, or buds. I wasn’t sure which. Surely not buds though, as it was late in the year.

So if they were fruits, had the tree flowered? I suddenly felt cheated!

But who knows?

The other noticeable change was the large, flowering rose bush behind the tree. There’d been a climbing rose there before, I’m sure, but not as large as this.

As we headed past, as was customary, I looked over my shoulder for one last glance, and couldn’t resist a final shot for comparison.

I’m sure, if I was clever, I could make all sorts of comparisons, to many parts of life, relationships and more. But you know what, it was just nice being back.