Clearly Clovelly … Minus Most Of The Fog

When I left you yesterday, we were in stand of tall trees that I tend to think as Live Oak trees. John said this expression meant nothing to him except the obvious one of an oak tree that was living and not dead. After a little online research, I found that there is a tree in the American south that is called a Live Oak,’ but they tend to be shorter and the limbs grow out more to the sides instead of up like in the last photo you can see here in yesterday’s post.

Since we ended the post with a foggy shot of a sheltering tree, I thought we also should begin with one today. When I saw the tree in the photo above, I wondered out loud about the way it reminded me of weeping willow type of tree that looked as if someone had given it a haircut. John promptly said that he suspected cows were the culprit and they’d likely chewed up as high as their necks could stretch. If you have a different theory I’d love to hear it.

Walking on we reached our destination, the village of Clovelly. This privately owned fishing village has the steepest streets I think I’ve climbed since moving to the UK. There are no cars in Clovelly, you have to walk. People use sleds or sledges as they say here to drag their belongings up and down the 400′ foot cliff that provides a home for a small community of people.

You can see a red sled in this photo … it’s kind of small compared to most of the others we saw.

I thought it was pretty interesting that the Methodist Chapel was next door to the pub.

The chapel popped with color especially after seeing the mostly white walls of the buildings that led to the doorway.

A forgotten communion glass.

Remember what I said about 400′ down … this was taken only part way.

Wear sensible shoes when you visit Clovelly and watch your step.

I’m not sure how they get the sledges or sleds over these speed bumps, but they do.

After hiking out of Clovelly and pausing to catch our breath, we did something we rarely do on our coast path walks, we went back the same way we came.

These boys were were super friendly almost to the point of allowing a head rub before they turned skitish.

This shot was hidden in the fog on yesterday’s post and when we began our late afternoon walk back to the car, we discovered we could see Clovelly Court.

Remember the shelter where we had lunch … it was so foggy we could only hear the sea, but on the way back we could also see it as the fog was completely gone.

Angel Wings, our sandwich stop.

This one’s for perspective. This is more of what we couldn’t see on our walk to Clovelly earlier in the day.

The gorse was everywhere giving off a scent that made the air smell faintly of coconut and we had view so gorgeous it was difficult to move on.

This is one of my favorites and even though it’s still a bit foggy in the distance, I like the look of the rocky coast.

If I Could Talk With The Animals

Okay, so I know this peacock doesn’t really qualify as an animal and I should be embarrassed to post a photo of me looking seriously in need of a fashion makeover, but this image taken by John on July 4th is so typically me that I decided to toss my vanity out the window and share it.

In addition to showing you some less than flattering pictures in this post, I’ve decided to let you in on something you may not know about me yet. It’s nothing too shocking and some of you probably do it too … at least with your pets at home. I like to talk with animals and that includes just about anything that creeps, crawls, walks on four legs, or flies.

Living as we do with so much nature and wildlife around, I find it easy to see how Beatrix Potter created the circle of animal friends that she did and the magical way she gave them human characteristics and voices of their own through her children’s books.

I’m not sure what John thinks when he hears me call out to wooly sheep like these, but sometimes he likes to answer for them when he hears me say,” Morning, girls. ” If he happens to be nearby, I’m likely to hear him respond in his very best high-pitched girly sheep voice, ” Morning, Elizabeth.”

Today while John and I were cycling up on the moor we had a chance encounter with some of the wild ponies that roam free. As you can see below, not all the ponies were feeling wild and standoffish. The little one below was quite comfortable with me letting me give it a little hug before getting back on my bike to ride.

This pony was so tame that it was content to stay close when John rode up on his bike a few minutes later.

We stopped by a neighbor’s house on our ride and I had a chance to hold a ferret for the first time. If you’re interested in owning one yourself they have more babies that can be had for ten pounds each.

The photos below are some John took a few months ago when the Gorse was in full bloom. I was trying to get a new pony to let me take a few photographs when the moorland horse below decided she’d be happy to give me some of the attention I was trying to coax from the pony. I didn’t know she was behind me until she gave me a little nudge.

Once she bumped me, I turned and saw John documenting my surprise.

She got a bit aggressive and no amount of talking as in, ” Hold on a minute while I get to my feet, ” mattered enough to keep her from gently knocking me about. I won’t mislead you into thinking that she suddenly found me so irresistible that she couldn’t leave me alone … it was the carrots I had with me that made so popular with her.

A Friday Field Trip- Brownsham To Hartland Quay

I know I haven’t been around for the last couple of days, but we’ve had a visitor from London and have been out to the places everyone wants to see when they say they’re coming to see us. I put together a little photo tour to show you what we saw on our field trip.

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I have to have frequent stops to record images like this…

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or this…

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It’s difficult to get lost when there are signs along the way like this one.

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Sometimes you meet up with wooly animals like the one above.

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Dylan the dog, waits for his dog walkers.

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As I went to the edge for the shot, John snapped this one of me.

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Okay…I know this looks funny, but look at the view. I was taking a picture not a nap.

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This was not the only hill we climbed.

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We walked this valley. It reminded me of Scotland.

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Pheasant…we walked up them on and I got off a couple of shots. This was the best one.

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The two dark spots on the path are John and his eldest daughter.

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The yellow flowers are called Gorse…they grow everywhere and smell like coconut.

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The walk was well worth the dramatic views.

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More hills…

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and even more hills….

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Follow the arrow and go out about an inch and then down to see the woman swimming in the freezing cold water.

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See what I mean…

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If you look over to the far right, there is a wooden bench for watching the waves.

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John was walking past this remains of an old building when the moon came out.

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Elizabeth & John

We started our coast path walk at Brownsham and walked past Hartland Point where you can take a helicopter to Lundy, an island John loves to visit (we’re going in January ) and we finished at Hartland Quay.