Saturday diversions

The sunny spells promised by the weathermen were dragging their feet on what is known as Holy Saturday, the 8th of April. The sky was clad in a cloak of solid granite grey and an army of brooding black clouds were lying in wait on the horizon. At just 7°C by the time we'd dragged ourselves out of bed, we mockingly laughed at the highs of 14°C our phone's weather app insisted upon.

The outfit I picked out that morning was still airing on a designated rail in the spare room after I'd worn it to work a week or so ago. All its components bar my tights and ring (purchased new), and my brooch (flea market find) were supplied by the charity shops at one time or another.

The off-white and bottle green checked wool-blend skirt, which is by River Woods (and not Tommy Hilfiger as I erroneously mentioned when I first acquired it) came home with me last Autumn and is an absolute joy to wear. It even has pockets, as demonstrated below. The mustard yellow thin knit jumper with its green and red leaves and flowers pattern proved be the skirt's perfect companion. I found it on the Oxfam rails in October 2021.

Mustard would have been the obvious choice of opaques to bookend the skirt, but I opted for red instead. They were almost exactly the same shade of red as the ankle boots I found earlier this year.

I picked up both colours of my jumper's pattern by adding a red vinyl belt and a bottle green beaded necklace and brooch, the latter a flower arrangement of green stones in a delicate gold-tone frame.

After our customary fruit & yoghurt breakfast, I continued with my ongoing seasonal swap-over, exchanging my warmest Winter coats for some Spring appropriate ones. I also unearthed a heap of jackets, some of which I'd forgotten the existence of, from the depths of my full to bursting coats wardrobe. 

When a glance outside the window confirmed that there still wasn't any improvement in the weather, I  reorganized my necklace display, doing a bit of a cull at the same time. My storage rack (see here) was groaning under the accumulated weight and I could no longer see the wood for the trees. It's still a bit fuller than it was in the photos, though. 

By the time I was finished, it had finally started clearing up a little, so I dragged the long-suffering Angelica into the spare room and dressed her up in my latest finds.

Two consecutive lunch break trips to Antwerp's Think Twice shops had yielded two Diolen frocks: a white short-sleeved one with a navy, magenta and pink flower pattern, and a blue sundress with a row of white, purely decorative, buttons down the front, its bodice and pockets edged in blue and white deckchair stripes.

On the day I found the blue sundress, I passed a big, newly opened second hand pop-up shop, where I found this flouncy plum, greyish green, yellow and orange checked dress on the well-stocked rails.

On to Friday's charity shop finds, which included all kinds of everything.

The burnt orange blouse with its pleated placket is by Zara while the teal cropped and three-quarter sleeved cardigan is ... you'll never guess ... a Zoë Loveborn one. I've already got it in blue and red, both of which are hard-working Summer staples. The oatmeal coloured waffle knit cardigan on the bottom left is by River Woods.

The jewellery department boasted several new-with-tags chunky beaded necklaces by Belgian label Les Cordes. I initially baulked at their € 5 price tag, which is a bit more than I usually pay for jewellery at the chazzas, until I saw their original retail price of € 49. 

There was no way I could pass up this unworn pair of 1970s denim embroidered slippers, especially since they are my size. Admittedly they do pinch a little bit, so my spare pair of feet, which came from Tanja's indoor flea market stall in January 2018, are breaking them in for me.

My final purchases came from the bookshelves. The one on the left is Daphne du Maurier's autobiography written when she was in her seventies. 

By lunch time the sun was making feeble attempts to break through the layer of grey. Finally, some gaps appeared and soon the sky was a mosaic of white clouds and bright blue sky. The mercury had even managed to creep into double digits!

As the weather gods had conspired against us, keeping us from going for a walk for weeks on end, we wasted no time in making up for lost time. Walenhoek, one of the ex-clay pit based nature reserves around here, was our chosen destination. After all, our last visit was back in October, which is an incredible six months ago.

Normally about a 20 minute drive from Dove Cottage, our journey was thwarted by a double dose of roadworks, which have become quite a plague here in Belgium lately.

There was one on the final stretch which would take us to the reserve's main car park, so that we had to follow a confusing succession of diversion arrows and ended up getting a bit lost. No surprises there, I suppose! Eventually, I spotted an Agency for Nature and Forests board next to a small car park with a tantalizing view of one of Walenhoek's plethora of lakes beyond it.

We swiftly parked our car and started our walk from this lesser-known corner of the domain. The path, which you can catch a glimpse of in the single photo above, offered tantalizing views of the lake, and eventually ended at a crossroads of paths, the muddiest of which taking us towards our usual territory.

We started visiting here regularly over ten years ago, after being introduced to the domain by a friend on an utterly miserable and very wet February day. Even then, the beauty of our surroundings had been obvious, so that we'd vowed to return on our own in better circumstances. 

After a couple of years, though, we stopped visiting as at one time the area was plagued by illegal fishermen who were barbecuing their catches at the edge of one of the ponds, leaving lots of litter in their wakes.  We only resumed our walks here in the Summer of 2020.

Now, unfortunately, the fishermen seemed to be back with a vengeance, and what's more, they now came equipped with tents, which we came across at regular intervals, some of them half-hidden among the reeds, with one or two almost blocking the muddy paths.

 At one point, we came across one of the tunnels which are the relics of one of the brickmaking factories that were once prolific in this part of the world.

The sun had kept playing hide and seek with the clouds all afternoon, but then she was able to part the curtain for long enough to expose an expanse of blue in which billowing white clouds floated and preened themselves in the water of the lake.

Signs of advancing Springtime were plentiful, although the majority of the trees were still awaiting their garlands of fresh green leaves. A pair of geese with the cutest of goslings floated by, keeping one eye on us to make sure we didn't come to near.

The sky was reverting the grey again by the time we were making our way back to the car park and I really stood out among the greens and greys with my charity shopped red Gigue jacket, which turned out to be the perfect choice for the indecisive weather.

I stood and stared at the almost primordial landscape behind me, when I spotted a black blob at the end of one of the branches in the tree in the upper left corner.

As I zoomed in I was transfixed when it the blob turned out to be a cormorant, having a rest and stretching its wings after diving for its afternoon snack in one of the lakes.

Not quite a gulp of them -  I just love collective nouns, don't you - as spotted by Sheila on her latest walk, but even a single one of these prehistoric looking birds is impressive in my book.

Do join me again for more Easter shenanigans in my next post!