Aliens Land in Dorset!
Yes, indeed. How scary is this beastie? Well, all right, I admit it, it’s my pitcher plant. But the flowers are pretty weird-looking – almost aggressive – you must admit. It’s flesh-eating, too. Be very scared if you happen to be a fly. Certainly earns a place in the the Quirky Genre. What was Mother Nature thinking of?
Is it a sport? Is it an artform? No – it’s kite-flying. I’m not sure how practitioners of this particular activity regard themselves, but even they would probably admit it’s a little eccentric. The sight of a multi-coloured galleon sailing across the sky is enough to trigger any writer’s imagination – it did mine – but when it’s accompanied by a giant fish, a pterodactyl and a large green frog it becomes distinctly surreal. Some of the kites sing, too, as the breeze passes through them. There’s certainly an art to it.
This particular kite-fest was held atop an iron-age hill-fort (Eggardon Hill, in Dorset) – a place with a strong feel of the ancient about it, and the celebration of the kites added a curious pagan feel. I loved it.
Your own sphinx!
This so appealed to my sense of the peculiar. A sphinx – no, a pair of sphinxes guarding a rather overgrown gateway. Everyone has them, don’t they? Well, no; I don’t think it’s very commonplace. If your garden is overrun with sphinxes, you have my admiration. I met with these on a visit to the 18th century Smedmore House in Dorset. I suppose sphinxes were popular in those days, when the classical ancient world was all the rage. But anyway, here they still are, patrolling their gateway. I wonder if I could fit one into my little garden?
Quirky Rhymes (1)