Extraordinary Gardens, Queen Mary’s Habit, The Fox and Flocking Together
Wednesday june 26
This morning I had a delicious breakfast at the Horse and Groom Pub not far from my hut and then set off to explore Hidecote House and Gardens. Google Maps took me on single lane winding roads through pastures and meadows, copses and through tiny villages and I had to stay sharply focused on passing cars with enough girth and also beeping the horn as I rounded corners which I remember Grandaddy doing. I only saw one animal fatality today on the road, unlike the several I often see back home.
The gardens were beautifully designed, meant to be experienced as individual “rooms” with a different focus for each one. Because it was so hot, it was hard to concentrate or want to wander that much. I tried to stay in the shade and eventually purchased a wide brimmed but hat from the shop because I realized that the hat I brought wasn’t really large enough. I felt very British with my dress and sandals and big floppy straw hat. I did feel the urge to pin the front of the hat and, for the first time ever, saw the use for a hat pin. I have no idea where I’d find one but a safety pin would probably be fine. Not as elegant, though.
Only a few rooms in Hidecote House were open to the public and one was full of an art installation by an artist, Olga Prinku, who weaves and embroiders images from plant material. I was especially interested in her About Time series of clocks made from dandelions and of eyes.
I left Hidecote hoping that the directions to Sezincote House and Gardens would take me on wider roads. There was some gasping as I encountered a huge flat bed truck with a wide load of hay bales on one of these single lane roads, but miraculously we both were able to pass. One positive about the roads so far is that there are no ditches on the side, just tall grass that obviously gets damaged by cars pulling over (and all the insects on them).
I arrived at Sezincote carpark and walked down the oak lined hill to the entrance to the grounds and house. This is the most spectacularly designed garden I have ever seen and the trees overlapped and had their own distinctive shapes and colors that created a multisensory experience - visually complex and yet harmonious, scented with movement from the breeze. The water added a sparkle and sound dimension as well.
Jackdaws and goldfinches were flying among the trees and singing. The day was glorious with huge cumulus clouds and cobalt blue sky. I have never seen such robust and healthy plants. My app Picture This was invaluable in identifying everything I was curious about.
I wandered up the hill to the yellow chalky path and explored the orangery with its glass ceiling and its elegant curve full of glass windows. It is now full of plants surrounding the large windows but without orange trees. Instead there are cafe tables and a nice tea service. I lay on a shady bank of soft grass and gazed at the large clouds. I didn’t think anything profound and that was just fine.
I had signed up for a house tour which lasted a half an hour and led by a woman who must have given the same information at least 10 times that day since we were the final group. Because the house is still lived in by a family, we were only able to see some of the rooms, but that was enough for me. They were full of furniture from Louis XIV’s era, garnet encrusted chairs that had lost most of their jewels (maybe due to Queen Mary? see below), and horribly gauche and overdone window dressings with curtains that had tassles and other things hanging from them. What interested me most were the views out the windows. One thing did surprise me, though and that was that Queen Mary had a habit of visiting places and saying how much she liked something in the house she was in, which meant that she wanted to take it home with her and expected to be given whatever she said she liked. When she died, people had kept track of all the things she had “taken” from various places and they were returned.
Apparently she had visited Sezincote and asked for some jewel covered hairbrush which was returned after her death. For a very hilarious and disturbing account of Queen Mary’s icy kleptomania, check out https://lisawallerrogers.com/2009/03/19/queen-mary-had-the-gimmies/
After doing a little painting sketch in the Orangery and patting the cat that was trying very hard to stay cool on the stones outside, I drove through Chipping Camden (very posh) and back to Oddington to a new pub called The Fox. It felt very chic and very much for people who want to be seen. Everyone moving through to the garden had on makeup and looked as if they were in the Hamptons. I preferred the vibe at the Horse and Groom from the night before.
After returning to my little hut on wheels and the sheep, I decided to take my camera and go light searching, especially since it was Golden Hour. The village was so silent. No sounds of music, TV’s, trucks revving, sirens, or even dogs barking. The only sounds were the sheep calling to one another and the birds. The pigeons here are twice the size of U.S. pigeons and seem to have a lot to say to one another about where to settle for the night. Every time I passed a hedge I seemed to rustle up pigeons whose size continued to surprise me.
Thankfully I have the Merlin app which has been identifying all the birdsong. The sky surrounded me as I stood on top of the hill. I could see the English countryside I had been longing to see in person - all the patchwork fields of different grasses and trees like sentinels, older than I will ever be by hundreds of years.
When I came back and the sun had set, there was still twilight and the sheep were now silent except for the sound of munching grass. They eyed me with curiosity and when I approached or said anything they ran off, only to turn and look with curiosity again. I discovered that the fan my host had given me had splintered into several pieces inside the wire frame. I have no idea how that happened and have never seen that before.
The cool air was like a balm after the heat of the day and I started to work more on my paintings and settle at the table in the hut with the door open.
The chickens had gone to roost (the roosters have been calling in the morning) and the air was still. I put Karine Polwart’s music on and listened to Rivers Run, such a beautiful song. And then I heard them.
Hundreds of rooks and jackdaws circling, swooping, coming from all directions, flying over the sheep pasture and over the hut and around the trees, calling to one another. Both species mate for life. It was euphoric and awe inspiring to see so many at once and to witness something that has been happening for centuries. For anyone with a bird phobia it would have been the stuff of nightmares.
With the tiny amount of internet reception I had on my phone I was able to look up some information to discover that rooks and jackdaws often fly together and roost together. There must be some symbiosis there. I learned today that they become quiet during sunset and as soon as the sun sets, they erupt into the skies, calling and finding their roosting spaces for the night. If you discover why they wait until after sunset to find a spot to roost, I would love to know!
N.B. for the bird lovers reading this blog: this morning I heard the following birds - robin, nuthatch, song thrush, magpie, bullfinch, common chiffchaff, common wood pigeon, carrion crow, common redstart, chickens of various breeds. And not a bird, but apparently an endangered VIOLET CLICK BEETLE that only has been heard in three spots in the UK. It lives in old trees for its entire life and springs upwards with an audible click. I could easily be completely wrong about this because whatever beetle it was, it was clicking like a drum track with the occasional snare riff. Maybe it was just clicking for fun.
