January

"The river's tent is broken: the last fingers of leaf

clutch and sink into the wet bank."

- T.S. Eliot

Early morning frost at our neighbour's lake

Gardeners like us are probably a rarity in rural France. We prefer a small plot where we can keep on top of weeds (just about) and fuss over a variety of carefully chosen plants.

The older we get, the less we are able to contemplate the tough work of hedge cutting and tree planting. This year, for the first time, we paid a young man to come and trim the fir hedge, even though I did assist him in the tedious task of clearing up!

For younger folk, though, it can be a delight to finally own some real land, which still comes fairly cheap in France, and to be able to create new vistas and vantage points.

Country properties often entail a few hectares of semi-cultivated pasture and if, like our neighbour Robert, you're lucky enough to have a small lake and river as your 'back garden', then the possibilities are endless.

To do his kind of landscape gardening, you need at the very least a proper digger, a flat-bottomed boat and a stout pair of waders ... not to mention boundless energy and willingness to work in all weathers!

Exciting opportunities for waterside planting

Frost is a perfect accompaniment to feathery grasses and unpruned shrubs adorning the lakeside. That blaze of colour I photographed in autumn has now subsided into a gentler picture of frost-rimed leaves and stems.

Over the years we've watched with great interest as Robert has transformed this hitherto closed-off area in front of his old flour mill - the 'Minoterie' as shown above - and created a path where neighbours like us can admire the changing seasons around the lake.

Balladin and Balthazar

As an added attraction, Robert also adopted some photogenic farm animals which may be familiar from my previous blogs!

One cold misty morning, he came to tell me he was going to ferry some feed up to the rare-breed sheep (mainly Soays) which run wild on his island.

This means taking the motorised oyster boat up-river, to an area of tall woodland bounded on all sides by a clear spring, or 'source', which brings our drinking water from deep inland.

For me, sitting on a straw bale beneath the wheelhouse, this was a perfect oportunity to take some low-angled shots of mist rising off the water as we chugged through an eerily silent landscape, with just the odd moorhen skittering to safety as we passed.

It reminded me of the Cambridgeshire fens at a similar time of year... ice-cold but infinitely mysterious, especially when we entered the tunnel of overarching trees.

Wild sheep awaiting their supplementary rations

Disembarking on the island always sends the sheep running for cover, even though they must know it means extra food. I watch and wait quietly, hoping they'll get used to my presence and become more interested in feeding; but it takes a long lens to finally catch a few shots as they emerge hesitantly from the woodland.

Then it's back on board for an even colder ride back down-river, occasionally illuminated by sun breaking through the mist.

Swan photographed through red stems
of Cornus sanguinea

A pair of swans landed on the lake recently and have now taken up residence, ruthlessly sidelining the geese and ducks who were there first.

Fortunately there's enough space for them all to cohabit without too much hissing, and they probably appreciate the bits of stale bread which come their way most mornings!

Greenfinch

Without doubt it's the wildlife as much as the plants which makes a garden come alive and, despite my complaints about birdseed taking root in our driveway, it's always a pleasure to see them tucking in on a cold day.

Greenfinches turn into bullies, forever knocking the poor tits off our sunflower feeder. Sparrows hunt for seeds and crumbs in the driveway, along with the robin, dunnock and at least one pair of collared doves.

Collared dove - Streptopelia decaocto

I'm rather fond of the latter as they seem to be such affectionate, gentle souls, watching patiently from their usual perch on the power-line above our garden studio.

Sparrowhawk - Accipiter nisus
- using its tail for balance

Unfortunately, they present a rather tempting target for any hungry predator like a passing sparrowhawk.

We've seen these hawks shoot out of nowhere with arrow-like precision, bringing down a bird which is almost equal in size.

A few years ago we watched in fascinated horror from our sitting room window as one such hawk carefully devoured a whole bird in front of us, pulling off clumps of feathers and eviscerating the poor, unwary dove.

Handsome but deadly...

It goes to show that gardens of all sorts can provide photo-opportunities and magical scenes even in the depths of winter. 

A host of long-tailed tits decorating a tree
(with thanks to Photoshop!)