Summers Past

And the making of memories.

Forgiving me for returning to the beach and family holidays. But a couple of   posts I’ve read this week have catapulted me back to Devon.  First there was Nancy’s post reflecting on just how many summers her family had enjoyed their favourite beach  just like the Uphilldowndale family’s love of a certain Devon beach,

then there was Sarah’s post that made me smile and recall our coastal meeting with a grasshopper.  So I nipped back to the post I’d written at the time, back in 2009, about our encounter with the artist David Measures, about his glorious art and his generosity with both his time and knowledge: sadly, when I followed the links, I discovered that David died last year.  Looking at the website of Southwell Artists I saw that Christine Measures, David’s wife, is also an artist.

When I met David he told me he was working on a book that would capture, not just the markings of a butterfly, for identification but how it moved, its mannerisms, what a bird watcher might call it’s jizz.  The slide show of Christine’s art captures both David and Devon summer holidays perfectly. Beautiful.

 

Technorati Tags: Art,Photography,Family Holiday,Beach,Seaside,Summer,David Measures,Butterfly,Paddling,Sea,South Devon

Seaside Rock

How quickly our seaside holiday is becoming a distant memory. How quickly the real world piles in to the vacated mind.

How heavy it has rained today! Just as well I have some holiday snaps to look back at.

On the coast path there were some fine lumps of rock (you know I’m fond of them) ancient gate posts, long since disused girded with hand forged iron.

The remnants of old walls

The bizarre weather we’ve had in UK this summer seems at least to have pleased the costal flowers, or just made them flower later than usual. I can’t ever recall  ever seeing quite so many as this year.

The insect world seemed appreciative

Just delightful really, *sigh*

On the Wing

I wasn’t sure if I’d caught this image, it was over in the beat of a wing; with no time to focus manually, breaking waves and a rolling band of birds to faze the camera’s auto focus it came down to luck rather than anything else.

Oystercatchers taken from the coast path near Prawle Point

Spud on Sunday part LXVI

Spud the dog, a portrait by our friend Mrs Ogg

 

Spud got very excited watching the Olympic games last night, what a golden night it was. Mr Uphilldowndale and Tom are down on the beach in Weymouth watching all the sailing action on big screens and are having a very pleasant time by all accounts.

Freedom

Just what a summer holiday should be, 2012 has been a vintage year.

Joe and I are back home now, Mr Uphilldowndale and Tom are down in Weymouth staying with BiL my brother-in- law and SiL, my soon to be sister- in- law, where they are woohooing the Olympic sailors on towards gold.

I’ve enough images in stock to keep they summer feel running for a blogging week or two (whilst I wade through laundry and return to the world of work).

Tomorrow a special edition of Spud on Sunday, from Mrs Ogg.

Spud on Sunday Part LXV

Continuing Spud the dog’s Sunday seaside adventures.

No Spud! Do not eat the seashells…

Edit… If you  look closely you can see he has a seashell in his mouth, he didn’t swallow it, thankfully, he does ingest stones from time to time  though  

Spud is a enthusiastic beachcomber, here I’m not sure if his plan is to dig up more jellyfish or bury the one he found.

Pretty isn’t it?

 

Timeless Elegance

I think regular readers will have gathered that most things about boats and yachts don’t  really ‘float my boat’ but every now and then one catches my eye and to be frank you’d have to be blindfolded to miss the elegance and beauty of this yacht, that was sailing out of Salcombe harbour this morning.

 

I don’t know what she is called, but we do know she shared a mooring in the harbour with  ‘Sceptre’ who raced in the Americas Cup 1958

Over the years various bits of boats and even a whole pram dinghy* have cruised into our kitchen at home, seeking warmth, ‘so the varnish will dry better’  during one of  Mr Uphilldowndale’s  boat repair and restoration projects (of which there are many) but I doubt any of the bits from this boat would fit in our kitchen, even if they came in through the window(true story).

*Pram dinghy? Here is one we sold earlier

 

(Joe still has a passion for tartan trousers, ten years on, but not for boats).

Spud on a Sunday Part LXIV

Spud the dog is in his element. Here he is on his Sunday morning walk.

Not a little girl in a  pretty sundress in sight. The early morning mist burnt off for a stunning sunny day.

However Spud did blot his copy book, I was distracted briefly whilst making the sandwiches for lunch and when I returned all that was left was lettuce leaf on the kitchen floor, Tom’s order of ham salad with pesto mayo was no more. Naughty Spud. Just as well I had preselected my beach reading.

Five Star

We are down in the west country,  yipeeee, the lack of blog posts this week  is directly related to the lack of Internet connection. As is the lack of  an anticipated online supermarket delivery *sigh*.

The jet stream has taken the hint and headed north leaving us basking in  much welcome sunshine.  Tom’s friend  Mr H, found a starfish yesterday, when they were swimming in the  still chilly water just off the beach… A thing of beauty.

We tried very hard not to stress the poor thing, it was held under water until I’d got the camera sorted (I love that fact a Tom, all 17 years and six foot two inches can still come bounding up the beach proclaiming, ‘Mum, Mum look what we found!’)

after a few quick snaps it was released to the bottom of the sea again.

Underneath it was a seething mass of little glistening, rippling suckers

life is a beach.

Spud on Sunday Part LVIII

We thought we’d go back to the top of the hill, to illustrate  that the terrain  wasn’t quite as wild as the mist might have you believe.

 

The snow was patchy, the fun consistent.

I’d have said there wasn’t a breath of wind,

but I must have been wrong on that count, as when we headed for the top of the hill we found a gentleman flying a kite.

He seemed rather serious about his hobby, in a ‘train spotter’ sort of way and he  certainly must have been good at, did I mention there was no wind? Maybe he had a fan heater? However  my problem was that Spud seemed worryingly excited about the dancing tail of the kite. Fearing a repeat of the three little girls on the beach incident we took a detour, to save face and/or cost. We will return another day.