If I Were Famous

If I was famous, say a famous writer .. er, no, that's not imaginative enough .. if I was a famous actress .. no, everyone wants to one of them .. if I was a famous .. um, garden designer ... pah! ... if I was a famous .. mountaineer .. oo, no, unlikely .. well, just say if I was well known for something and a weekend colour supplement asked me a list of questions designed to reveal the hidden me, then my answer to the question 'what is your favourite smell?' would be 'hyacinths'.

No More Moths

The Garden Dart.  Declined by 98%

The trouble with having an interest in the natural world is that there is always bad news.

Here is some more: the charity Butterfly Conservation has issued a report on the moth population of the UK.  They studied a 40 year period from 1968 to 2007 (coincidentally a time frame we the readers and writers of this blog have lived through) and not unsurprisingly found the majority of species studied have declined, some, like the Garden Dart above, by 98%.

The causes are probably habitat loss, with perhaps light pollution and of course chemical poisoning. Chris Packham is angry: 'Ultimately, the wider countryside is becoming a desert very rapidly.'

Obviously this has a huge knock-on effect on the animals that feed on moths. Packham again: "The general public's hearts are not going to be bleeding for the Double Dart moth, but they would be bleeding for all the birds that feed on its larvae."

The Double Dart. Declined by 98%

 Strangely the numbers of continental moths has increased. Apparently the result of global warming.

The Least Carpet. Increased by 74,684% !

We're all going to hell in a handcart.

Sunday Breakfast In The Sun

(Here's another attempt to blog from my bed using the IPad. Apologies for poor quality pics and layout, but in my defence it's Sunday)

Did you see Monty's new programme?

I know we were meant to listen politely to Monty as he strolled round the gardens, absorbing snippets of cultural history along the way, but I couldn't help being distracted. Did you see that sunshine?! Sunshine! I haven't seen that much gorgeousness in literally years.

If I had really been there with him (perhaps as a lowly tea maker to the film crew) I don't think I could have listened quietly in a suitably reverential manner, but would have shed as many layers of clothes as decency allows then gone skipping off down those long paths, waving my arms about in that heat (can you remember heat?), and loudly exclaiming "woo hoo!"

When the sponginess of Manchester gets on top of me the dream landscape I like to escape to in my head is the wide expanse of a Danish beach (or the pier at Southwold - depends on how strong the need for coffee is). It's the huge horizon I crave. But the creative muse has missed a trick hasn't she? She forgot the gift of heat and fierce sun.

So, pardon me while I have my second Sunday breakfast croissant in a French garden.

I'm not sure if Monty is here with me. He's probably a bit high maintenance (aren't they all?), but that little car would be useful to get the papers with. Do they sell The Observer in France?