Two Twixmas walks

Time has clearly been running away from me again. Back on the work-eat-sleep-repeat wagon since the 2nd of January, I've just woken up with a jolt, realizing that we're already heading towards the middle of the month. It's quite uncanny how being back on the hamster wheel for just over week has already managed to make my Christmas break recede into the far distance.

With barely a smidgen of energy left at the end of each working day - which isn't at all helped by the mind-sapping greyness of these short January days - it's all I can do to keep up with blogland, let alone pen a new post.

By rights, this one should have been published yesterday and, in fact, I had every intention of doing so if a life-affirming frosty yet gloriously sunny day hadn't lured us outside for an afternoon walk.

Obviously, my blog hasn't made it this far yet and is still firmly stuck in those final December days.

The weather on Friday the 27th of December initially looked identical to that of its predecessors. Mizzly, foggy and of a uniform grey, with highs of just 3°C, it wasn't extending an invitation to spend it elsewhere than inside Dove Cottage's cozy confines.

Cozy is the exact word too for this flower pot patterned vintage frock in the softest of wool blends. Found at Think Twice in November 2019, it is one of my go-to dresses when the temperature descends towards freezing point. Both the teal plastic flower brooch and the wooden pansies-and-leaves necklace were charity shopped, the latter being one of my Boxing Day finds.

The weather forecast insisted that we were in for a dry afternoon so, as we were in desperate need of stretching our legs and clearing the cobwebs from our post-Christmas heads, we chose to believe they'd got it right for once and drove down to Middelheim.

Contrary to our previous visits finding parking space was a doddle this time. In fact, we were able to park our car right next to the new entrance to the part of the park called Middelheim-Laag.

Instead of making straight for the large open space where the majority of the works of art are, we meandered along the path through the green belt which encloses it. This is part of the former flower garden of  Nachtegalenpark (transl. Nightingale Park) which was incorporated into Middelheim Sculpture Park in 2012. 

The lingering fog caught between the trees was adding a magical twist to the rock garden with its tiny pond and the rust-coloured remains of the dying ferns surrounding it.

Still circumnavigating the large open space, we continued our walk into the semi-woodland beyond, where I had a disastrous encounter with a couple of white, red-roofed houses. Oops!

Joking aside, obviously no real harm was done, as the houses are of course a work of art! They are called Musterhäuser (Model Homes), Typ "Bomarzo" and are by the German conceptual artist Timm Ulrichs (°1940).

The murky, brown-ish water of the pond had no problem adding to the overall gloom of the day, reflecting the skeleton trees surrounding it. A lonely cormorant sat digesting its lunch while spiky silver giants kept watch from the opposite bank. Dating from 2012 and by Belgian sculptor Peter Rogiers (°1967), they are supposed to represent palm trees, although the artwork's name, Silver Fruit, Silver Cakespoons, The Garden, doesn't really give the game away.

Belgian architect Charles Vandenhove's (1927-2019) Pillared Pavillion (above, top left) consists of two parts: the pavilion itself and a gateway. Both betray the influence of ancient Greece. The pavillion is strictly geometric and soberly constructed, while the gateway is a slightly more frivolous interpretation.

Inside the pavillion two sculptures are hiding from the dismal weather conditions. They are Sibilla (above, bottom left and top and bottom centre), dating from 1947 and by the Italian sculptor Pericle Fazzini (1913-1987), and Grande Bagnante N°1 (above, top and bottom right). The latter dates from 1956 and is by another Italian sculptor and contemporary of Mr. Fazzini, Emilio Greco (1913-1995).

Finally arriving at the heart of Middelheim-Laag, I briefly joined the queue for the spaceship called Never Mind (2017) by Welsh artist Richard Deacon (°1949), but then decided against boarding it as the weather forecast for its home planet turned out to be truly atrocious. 

At least, our weathermen were adamant that we'd get to see the sun on Saturday!

At a measly 2°C, though, it was time to break out the woollies! 

With its generous wool content, this grey, white and black diamond patterned Trixi vintage skirt is one of the warmest in my wardrobe. It was joined by a 100% wool purple jumper, the diamond lace knit pattern at its yoke echoing the skirt's, an embroidered leaf or flower nestling in each of the diamonds.

My "faux sheep" gilet was a fast fashion find from a local shop, now going into its eighth season. The deer brooch was a flea market find and the pale green fabric belt with its scalloped metal clasp buckle used to belong to a dress I no longer own.

 

As it was the first time in many weeks that we'd actually get to see some sunshine, we wasted no time in driving over the the park in Duffel for a stroll. However, we were tempted to have a brief look at what the charity shop goddesses had on offer in the charity shop across the road first.

My spoils were a cinnamon openwork knit jumper and no less than five belts! Oh, and another cardigan, which you'll get to see in my next post.

Afterwards, we recrossed the road and entered the park where a meeting of all sorts of waterfowl seemed to be going on. Apparently someone had just emptied a bag of stale bread near the pond, which was very much appreciated by all and sundry, by now including a flock of screeching gulls.

Lord and master seemed to be a rather agressive, loudly honking goose (below, top left) which was having a hissy fit whenever another bird even dared to come close to a choice piece of bread it had its eye on. 

The day's sunshine and blue sky were veiled by persistent rags of fog which kept blotting out the horizon.

Silhouetted against a blurring blanket of white, the trees, now completely devoid of the final of their leaves, seemed to be at peace with their lot, knowing their time will come again in Spring.

The blanket of fog which was swaddling the park only allowed the sun to be a mere pinprick reflected into the water of the rill, recently dug to avoid flooding of the main pond.

We decided the risk it and take the path around the latter, which in times past used to be flooded in the Winter months. The rill must have done its work, however, as rather than being faced with a partially submerged path, we only had to negotiate a couple of muddy patches.

The dregs of low-slung sunshine was adding an eerie glow to the almost opaque surface of the pond, rendering it picturesquely atmospheric.

Here and there, a fiery carpet of bald cypress leaves joined forces with the banks of bleached reeds edging the pond in adding a splash of much-needed colour.

It turned out that we'd be seeing the year's final rays of sunshine that day and we'd be back to endless grey to see out its last days.

These, as well as our first tentative steps into the new year, will be the subject of a next post. Hope to see you again soon!