spring in the cemetary (not that the child would know it).

Hard to believe but we have actually had a couple days on which it has not rained.  In South West England.  I know right?  And like all who have lived their lives in the south west, no rain is the sign of a glorious day which cannot be spent inside.  

James and I went for a stroll around Arnos Vale.  Turns out spring is already happening.  I had one of those I can't believe how quickly time is flying moments whilst walking.  I mean, we have now lived in Bristol for six months.  We left Cardiff nine months ago.  Our newborn baby is four months old.  This picture was taken a year ago and the Primroses are out.  Just what the heck?!   

That said it really was a lovely walk.  I walk here with Faelen often but I have my suspicions he has not yet seen it, he is usually asleep within ten paces of leaving our front door.

starting to look a lot like autumn.

I have tried this year to not be one of those people that is constantly surprised at the passage of time, but, seriously - the last week of October?  I genuinely don't know when this happened.  I actually found chestnuts on a walk the other day - not big ones, but chestnuts nonetheless.  For the most part I don't actually mind the weeks slipping by but I am a little disappointed that I have had a post in my drafts folder with sea pictures that I have meant to post forever (well, since July) and now I think I have to accept their time has gone!

Bristol is still deceptively green for October especially when you compare it to this picture



taken at the same time last year.  That really was a golden October.  

That is not to say that this one is any less beautiful though...

Looking back through old photographs always makes my mind wander.  Last October, playing in the leaves instead of writing my dissertation, I couldn't have predicted that this October I would be quite so hugely pregnant.  And by next October I will be sharing the season with a nearly one year old child who I can't even begin to imagine!  Reading this Autumnal post on Fritha's blog made me very excited for this future.


Also, I lied, I couldn't let all my seaside pictures go to waste...

exploring bristol and finding new favourites.

Having somewhere new to explore at the weekends is too exciting.  Finding a new coffee shop to claim as our favourite coffee shop, exploring the hundreds of galleries and free exhibitions before we have to consider a crying baby, trying all the bakeries to find our new staple sourdough loaf; these last few Autumnal weekends are passing by all too quickly.

spangle galls.

So on my previously mentioned Autumn explore I spotted a lot of these little UFO like shapes on the underside of the oak leaves.  Hundreds and hundreds of tiny little UFOs.  James and I stared at them for a while and figured they might be some sort of insect or moth egg.  
The reality is so much more exciting than just some dumb bug egg - these little discs are Spangle Galls!  
Spangle Galls contain the larvae of a type of Gall Wasp (aka cynipid wasps); these wasps, either whilst an egg or as a larvae depending on the breed, secrete a substance which causes the leaf to reorganise its cells and develop this weird growth which is the perfect environment for the larvae to develop in, all snugly enclosed.
The larvae can then even get the plant to direct more nutrients towards the cells surrounding its moist bedroom - the plant literally delivers food to its door.



How neat is that?!  Some people (cecidologists) spend their lives studying these phenomena and still, very little is known about them!  I am going to have to go gall hunting again some time. 

Arnos Vale: a secret world of Victorian graves.

When James and I moved into this area, we knew nothing about it, it was a gamble based on the only house we could afford to rent that had both a roof and panes glass in the window frames but we have really landed on our feet.  

But since moving to Bristol I have had a lot of time on my hands.  James works ridiculous hours and I no longer have the luxury of all my nearest and dearest residing on the doorstep.  I am finding it temptingly easy to sink into the habit of hermitude, since my first cabin-fevered week, unpacking with minimal human contact, I realised that the huge expanse of free-time I am lucky enough to have pre-baby should be better utilised.  At some point in Cardiff I think I forgot how to do things by myself. 

So I have been consciously making the effort to do things by myself instead of waiting for company.  Every day I have set myself something to do that, in a past life, I would have waited until someone had time to accompany me.  
From this, I have developed a true love for Arnos Vale, my favourite place in this new area.  Less than five minutes from my front door is 45 acres of Victorian Cemetery, surprisingly hidden in the centre of busy city.  Not since my 'goth' phase (aged approximately thirteen and three quarters and involving too much borrowed eye liner and an oversized spiked dog collar) have I considered a cemetery a fun place to hang out but Arnos Vale is something else.  There is nothing maudlin or morbid about it, it has fallen back to nature and is an overgrown wilderness of ivy, trees and graves.  Walking in is like entering a cobweb, endless winding paths stray and interconnect, occasionally I convince myself I have accidentally left the grounds only to spy more graves in the undergrowth.

Every few days since moving in I have gone to walk around the grounds and I have yet to take the same route twice.  I can't decide which is more magical, the fallen graves or the abundant growing life.

Wild orchids and abandoned quarries.

Having not lived in Somerset for several years and knowing I am unlikely to ever live this close to my childhood haunts again, I compiled a list of places to show James before we move. So this week I've been tiring James and the Bump out on endless wooded walks.   I posted once before about the abandoned train tunnels (the terror of my childhood Sunday afternoons) and in the sunshine we braved them again, this time heading further into the overgrowth to visit the neglected quarry.  It was a bit of a fight to get through at times but I forgot my bruised shins when the quarry opened out in front of us covered in wild orchids.

Whilst moving back to live in a small house with my mother, her partner, his daughter and my brother (not to mention the two oversized dogs) has required some coordination and compromise, it has all been totally worth it..  Every time a nerve is frayed or a toe is trodden on I just remember this is the last time I have the opportunity to live with my family and I wouldn't change it for the world  (aside from perhaps installing a second bathroom).
Mostly though I simply can't stop thinking that this time next year I will be able to bring baby boy on these same small adventures, the ones my mum has taken me on since I was a babe.