Jurassic Holiday

How to take your family to Jurassic Park without the children being eaten by dinosaurs? Enjoy a holiday on the Jurassic Coast.

‘The Jurassic Coast is a World Heritage Site on the English Channel coast of southern England. It stretches from Exmouth in East Devon to Studland Bay in Dorset, a distance of about 96 miles, and was inscribed on the World Heritage List in mid-December 2001.’

Obviously you won’t see it all on a week’s holiday or a day out, but whether you enjoy beautiful scenery, geology, fossil hunting or relaxing at the seaside, any part of this coast is worth visiting.

https://jurassiccoast.org/

Adults don’t like talking to young children about death if they can avoid it, or scaring them with tales of monsters, but most young children love dinosaurs; they know they are long dead and yet they are full of life to the child. They love their plastic dinosaurs as much as their cuddly teddy and adore the fact that they were huge and scary.

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For our half term holiday with Team H we stayed in two cottages in a village where the borders of Dorset, Devon and Somerset meet. On any English holiday it will rain, but it will also stop raining at some point so it is always worth setting out. Fossil hunting was the main aim and the beach to head for was Charmouth.

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Charmouth, Dorset is one place where everyone is looking down, but not at their phones, they are all looking for fossils. There is a pleasant village with the river Char running gently out to sea; you can step over it at low tide or walk across the little bridge. The row of beach huts is deceptive, walk a little further and this is not a normal seaside beach. Gaze up at black layered cliffs. Don’t go too close, there are regular mud slides and crumbling of the cliff edge. This is why fossil hunting is so popular, new fossils end up on the beach and people are welcome to collect them as they would otherwise be washed out to sea. You can also book a guided walk. At the free Charmouth Heritage Centre you can learn about prehistoric times and volunteers will identify your fossils. The grassy hill is in contrast to the beach and a pleasant walk, but don’t go near the edge. The beach has a lovely heritage centre and a cafe, but the rest is unspoilt coast. When we set off to walk along the beach the first thing we saw was a father and son climbing up the cliff chipping away with their hammers; there is always someone who has not read the boards about dangerous cliff falls!

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https://charmouth.org/

The second full day of our holiday brought the torrential rain the weatherman had forecast. We went into Seaton, a seaside town with an electric tramway that runs along the estuary of the River Axe to Colyford and the village of Colyton. Fortunately lots had changed since the last time we were there and next to the tram station was the new Seaton Jurassic, an excellent centre to escape the rain. Visitors are escorted in and the children given passports for the time machine. It’s all very interactive and older children can stamp their passports and answer clues. It is also quite dark and mysterious with lots of turns and tunnels, so make sure you don’t lose little ones. The final part takes you outside to gardens. Most importantly there is a good restaurant. We had lunch and by that time it had stopped raining and we went on the tramway. The little ones loved being on the open topped tram, the day remained grey, but it was still a pleasant gentle ride with a lovely little station and playground in Colyton.

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https://www.visitsouthdevon.co.uk/things-to-do/seaton-tramway-p141323

The next day was fine and Team H decided to get up very early and catch low tide at Charmouth for more fossil hunting, followed by cooked breakfast at the cafe. We followed them, but not quite so early.

Yes you can find fossils, not necessarily big ones, but if you are sharp eyed you should find some ammonites and children can take anything they find into the heritage centre to show the volunteers, who will tell them how old it is and you can also put your fossils under a microscope.

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The Game of Life – A Game of Sevens

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A real game of life is played out on a television documentary every seven years.

Seven Up! was commissioned by Granada Television as a programme in the World in Action series broadcast in 1964. From 7 Plus Seven onward the films have been directed by Michael Apted a researcher on Seven Up! who helped choose the original children. The premise of the film was taken from the Jesuit motto “Give me a child until he is seven and I will give you the man”.

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Up_(film_series)

This has been proved and not proved; the rich children, who already knew at seven the private education mapped out for them, have indeed been successful in predictable careers, but some of the ordinary kids have achieved a lot. Would we have guessed a Yorkshire farm lad would become a nuclear physicist in the USA?

I have followed much of this series and most of the participants have stuck with it, what an opportunity to create an historic record of society and your life. The interviews seem dignified, but candid. The most interesting has been Neil, at seven funny and full of life, but by 21 finding life difficult and over the years he has had ups and downs. It may be fashionable now to talk of mental health issues, but Neil has always faced the camera when he could easily have dropped out.

https://inews.co.uk/culture/television/63-up-cast-now-7-up-line-up-what-happened-itv-when-time-episodes/

Does the taking part in such a programme influence what you do in your life? How many of us would want our lives exposed. I guess seven years is long enough to get on with your life unobserved before the next episode. How would the rest of us fare under the seven year spotlight? At seven I was in a Church of England junior school and life was pretty simple and good; I would never have guessed that at fourteen I would be living on the other side of the world. We emigrated to Australia when I was eleven.

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I can imagine sitting giggling with my best friend and being interviewed like the three girls at their comprehensive school. However I do not think I would have liked my gauche pimply self filmed for posterity. At fourteen I would never have guessed I would be back in England just before my twenty first birthday; ostensibly on a working holiday, but with absolutely no idea what to do next. I wouldn’t have wanted Michael Apted probing into my ‘life is something that happens to other people ( quote from Alan Bennett ) period.’ At twenty eight, married with a toddler and over extending ourselves to buy a little flat, I could have put in a reasonable appearance, with career failures pushed into the background…

The ‘seven uppers’ have a unique record of their lives, with 63 the latest episode shown recently. Will the director Michael Apted still be around to make 70 Up? In the twenty first century bloggers can write about their lives in minute detail for everyone to see, will young bloggers keep blogging for their whole lives?

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Meanwhile in real life Cyberspouse finished his chemotherapy course, followed a few weeks later by a scan and last week we saw the oncologist to hear the results; everything still stable, nothing changed since the last scan, report back for check up in six weeks. Take an extra throw of the dice.

But a visiting in-law heard her relative had just died, four years after being given six months to live.   The Game of Life has no rules, or at least not rules the medical profession can understand for sure.

Silly Saturday – Don’t Do It Yourself

DIY is fun and cheaper, unless it all goes horribly wrong.

Reasons not to Do It Yourself

1. If it goes wrong you will have to pay someone to fix it.

2. Most accidents happen at home and all accidents that happen at home involve DIY; either the person doing it or innocent bystanders. Hazards include…

A. Electrocution

B. Severing of limbs

C. Falling from heights

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There are many big tasks that you cannot Do I Yourself – depending on which part of the world you live in these include…

1. Reroofing your house

2. Putting in new double glazing

3. Building an extension

4. Putting in a swimming pool / fish pond

5. Rewiring

6. New bathroom / kitchen

7. Digging a basement.

8. Felling Trees

Once you decide to go ahead with a project here are some handy points to remember.

Working out which company to use, or whether to call on that bloke you know from the Bottle and Brew, will take as long as the project itself so let’s skip that stage.

1. The arrival. Whatever time they have said they will come they will either arrive half an hour early while you are still in your dressing gown or two hours late… at the very moment you are taking an important phone call or visiting the bathroom.

2. Refreshments. Always offer tea, coffee or water in case they take revenge on mean customers… how often is tricky and depends on the weather – do they need warming up or cooling down and do you want to avoid them monopolising your toilet?

3. Mobile phones. Very useful, especially if they need to call their boss/base/office/factory ( see 4 ). It is a time wasting call if you hear them say ‘Okay Darling, can you put Mummy on the phone’ or ‘Okay Darls, see you tonight, love you… me too… ’

4. The Problem. There will always be a problem. Expect to be summoned before lunchtime with sucking in of teeth and shaking of head. They have forgotten a part, something is the wrong size or the ground is much harder than expected. More rare is the totally unexpected – see 6.

5. The Noise. Scaffold being put up, walls being demolished, trees being sawed… there is no project that will not annoy the neighbours and their dogs, but it helps if they have subjected you to noise, dust and inconvenience previously and you have not complained.

6. Major Delay. This usually involves a body or unexploded bomb in the back garden, great if you are a writer, not so good if you have no other home to go to. You will be evacuated and your property sealed off for the foreseeable future.

7. Normal Delay. Be thankful 6 hasn’t happened to you and be resigned to the fact the project will always take far longer than predicted due to the weather or The Problems.

But when the work is complete it will all have been worth it as you sit in your pool/ conservatory/designer garden  – unless of course it has all gone horribly wrong and you have to take them to court…

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Friday Flash Fiction – 975 – Holiday Cottage

The car wheels crunched on the gravel, but the noise did not seem to draw attention to our arrival. I turned the engine off and picked up my phone to check the email again.

If I’m out, key under flower pot by the seashell.

‘Which one’s ours?’ said Tony.

‘Hopefully not that dilapidated cottage.’ Already I was regretting my spontaneous idea that we should get away from it all for the long weekend. ‘It’s called Owl Barn, I suppose that’s it; smarter than the cottage, but looks like it was a barn once.’

‘Neither building looks like the pictures on the website’ frowned Tony.

I decided not to mention that after I had already booked, I noticed the newest post on the website was October 2011.

‘Come on, let’s see what it looks like inside.’

Along the wall of the barn were numerous plant pots and exotic seashells, the ones nearest the door revealed nothing.

‘We may as well check if anyone’s home at the cottage’ said Tony.

The cottage faced the barn, the small dusty windows gave no clue if anyone was home or looking out of them. We ducked under a creeper covered archway, I let Tony lead the way down the narrow path.

‘Good afternoon, I was just feeding the goats.’

I was startled by the voice and almost bumped into the tall woman standing right behind me. She held out her hand. ‘Mr and Mrs. Conway? I’m Celeste, welcome to the village and welcome to Owl Barn.’

The name didn’t really go with her appearance, I tried to suppress a smile, relieved that at least we were in the right place. ‘Thanks, Merryn and Tony.’

 

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‘…and if you need anything else don’t hesitate to knock.’

‘Thank you, it’s lovely.’

‘What was the name of the pub?’ said Tony.

‘The Haunted Barn, but don’t worry, it doesn’t refer to our barn. They do good meals if you don’t want anything fancy.’

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It was a good meal; a country walk round the village, only getting a bit lost, had given us a good appetite and we strolled back ‘home’ looking forward to the weekend. We wondered what the inside of Celeste’s cottage was like, she said they had converted the barn first to fund the renovation of their home, it made sense. We almost missed the narrow turning now it was dark and expected a security light of some sort to come on as we stumbled across the gravel to our door. Something brushed my leg, I grabbed  Tony’s arm and caught a flash of white.

‘Sorry…  here Angus you naughty boy.’ The pale face of Celeste loomed out of the dark. ‘You enjoyed your meal then?  Goodnight.’

Safely indoors I wondered how she knew, but Tony said of course she knew we were going to the pub for a meal.

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The country air had sent Tony straight off to sleep, but above his snoring I thought I heard a noise, a crunch on gravel, heavy feet. I looked out of the window; the moon had appeared, but I could see no one. Across at the cottage several upstairs windows glimmered with a faint yellow light.  I wondered how many people lived there, family or friends; Celeste had given no indication.

‘Is everything alright?’ A harsh whisper from below the window, was it Celeste or someone else?

Like a naughty child caught out of bed, I backed away and slipped gratefully into bed beside Tony, the alarm clock said 1.30a.m.

‘What’s the matter Merryn?’

‘Sorry, did I wake you, I heard noises, I think Celeste is prowling round.’

He yawned ‘Maybe she lost the cat or…’

Tony was asleep again before he finished the sentence. But for me sleep wouldn’t come. I crept out to the bathroom, then downstairs to fetch a drink of water. Out of the kitchen window I thought I saw movement at one of the lighted windows, then at the end of the cottage a window was flung open and a head popped out; it didn’t look like Celeste. He or she was staring at me. Didn’t anyone go to sleep in that house? I rushed back up the narrow stairs, stubbing my toe.

Hiding under the covers I tried to be rational. It was their home, they could stay up as late as they liked, stroll around in the dark…

I felt myself drifting off, only to be woken by a piercing scream.

‘TONY… did you hear that?’

‘What… what time is it now?’

‘Two thirty, did you hear that scream.’

‘No I was asleep, it was just a fox.’

‘Tony, how could you just go back to sleep, it wasn’t a fox… TONY… there it is again..’

‘Owl’ he mumbled.

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I thought morning would never come, but somehow the sun was shining in through the window and there was my long suffering husband standing by the bed with a cup of tea, smiling.

‘So much for our peaceful weekend, do you remember having a nightmare?’

‘It wasn’t, I heard the most awful cries… do you think we should check if everything’s alright at the cottage?’

‘What, just knocking to see if you’ve been murdered? I didn’t hear a sound love. We’ll have that cooked breakfast I promised you then go and walk up that hill we saw yesterday.’

Tony didn’t need to call up the stairs that it was ready, there was a smell of burning bacon. I rushed down.

‘Hey we don’t want to set off the smoke alarm.’

I threw open the door, then staggered back. Whatever sound issued from my throat brought Tony rushing to my side. A dark pool of blood on the doorstep and a trail of gore leading to the cottage, he slammed the door shut, bolted it, then grabbed his phone…

sunshine-blogger

What would you do, who would you call?

Write the next line in the comments and see what happens next week…

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The Blog of Many Colours

Times and Tides of a Beachwriter is brought to you today by the colour orange. We round off the last blog of many colours with a round colour. Which came first, the colour or the fruit? The fruit.

It wasn’t until these citrus fruits were introduced to the west in the late 15th century, by Portuguese merchants coming from Asia, that the Sanskrit word nāraṅga was coined. It eventually made its way through the romance languages and became orange in English.

Thanks to Brigid of Watching the Daisies for suggesting Coral. You can enjoy her lovely colourful garden here.

https://watchingthedaisies.com/

Coral is a reddish or pinkish shade of orange. The colour is named after the sea animal coral. Under the sea, or in a fish tank, orange is a popular colour, from the exotic to common goldfish. Every now and then I feel like dyeing ( no not dying ) and one day decided to dye some throws orange; the colour was called gold fish orange. If it’s a very dreek day, watching bright orange dye go round and round in your front loader washing machine is recommended to cheer you up.

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In the garden orange is one of my favourite colours; gazanias and cape daisies open up only in sunlight, but nasturtiums add zing to the dullest days. In winter pansies brighten tubs and window boxes and there is always an orange option.

 

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Orange is popular for making a brand statement, but in fashion and interior design I think orange comes and goes. My father brought little of interest home from the plastics factory where he was manager, in the days when plastic was fantastic. There was the Velcro strip he was excited about, but more fun for me was a piece of plastic fabric in psychedelic orange from which I made a mini skirt. Fortunately no picture exists.

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Orange is the second colour of the rainbow, the colour of alpha and omega; the beginning and the end, sunrise and sunset. A good colour to end the blogs of many colours.

sunshine-blogger

Silly Saturday – How to Cheat at State Visits

A state visit is when someone comes to your home, but you don’t recall inviting them. If you look out your front window and see lots of photographers you are sure to be having a state visit and you must be prepared.

On a state visit it is bad manners to wait till the doorbell rings, you must be outside ready to greet them; this is when you will need help from your family and colleagues. If the visitors have brought their whole family you must find an equal number of members of your own family who have not been insulted by the guests and do not have anything better to do, like go to work or look after the baby.

Each visitor must be greeted with sincere smiles, for the benefit of the cameras, and cheerful small talk. At this early stage of the meeting it is best to stick to the weather.

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You will also need help indoors. Your guests may expect to stay in your home, you can get out of this by having renovations done on the house, but you cannot get out of giving them a good meal. If you are The Queen you are used to giving banquets and will have a few people to help, but if you don’t have a banqueting hall you just need to pull out the leaves on the dining table, buy a few candlesticks at the charity shop and you can get three bunches of flowers for a fiver at the greengrocers. Don’t forget to buy a few bottles of wine when you get the food shop.

The menu is important as it will feature in reports of the state visit. If you are The Queen you may have to take the great grandchildren’s pet hand reared lamb and roast it, but you can probably get away with a couple of chickens from Aldi.

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Finally you will need felt pens and some recycled card to make place names for the table, but planning the seating is easy with these simple rules. Each person must sit next to someone of the opposite sex who they have never met before. Don’t forget to wear your best clothes and remind your family to be on their best behaviour and leave their mobile phones in the box at the door.

Good luck and don’t forget to record that television programme you were looking forward to watching in your pyjamas.

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The Blog of Many Colours

Times and Tides of a Beachwriter is brought to you today by the most boring colour…

Stevie Turner suggested I tackle beige, I don’t think she claimed it as her favourite colour. If it is I hope she won’t be offended. You can visit her blog here where she does a great job supporting other bloggers.

https://steviet3.wordpress.com/2019/06/01/share-your-short-story-june-2019/

Is beige the most boring colour? Knowing I was going to write this, a friend described a live show many moons ago when a well know comedian was making jokes about ladies in beige twin sets and my friend was wearing one; she shrunk down in her seat.

Is beige even a colour? Here is a picture of the most boring Poole Pottery ever made. Created in the 1970’s it was called mushroom and sepia, but it is a far cry from their earlier patterns or the fiery red vases they are famous for.

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https://www.poolepottery.co.uk/collections/vases?gclid=EAIaIQobChMI2Irf0fDN4gIVKL7tCh3ENQB_EAAYASAAEgJO6fD_BwE

Here at Chez Tidalscribe there is a family joke about those useful gilets with lots of very useful pockets that the older man likes to wear … and they are always beige. My late uncle used to wear one and we are always seeing uncle lookalikes. Cyberspouse is determined never to buy one.

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But where does beige come from? It takes its name from the French, where the word originally meant natural wool that has been neither bleached nor dyed. It has come to be used to describe a variety of light tints chosen for their neutral or pale warm appearance. Paint manufacturers make up many exotic names for paint that is really just shades of beige and there is nothing wrong with painting your house in neutral colours to look light and clean, you can always get bright curtains. Hmmm  I have just realized we have beigish curtains, bought in Debenham’s sale years ago. They tone down the butterscotch walls and the orange throws and turquoise cushions on the multi coloured sofa…

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When grandchild number one was expected the parents didn’t want to know the sex, so the nursery was decorated in beige and looked calm and soothing. When number two was on the way they did want to know; they were delighted it would be a girl this time, so the nursery was decorated in every shade of pink and in her cot the baby’s face took on an orange glow when the evening sun shone through the cerise curtains.

Beige; do you love it or hate it?

Fashion or interior design?

Silly Saturday – Starting Summer

Hurrah, Meteorological Summer starts today, you don’t have to wait till the summer solstice. The weathermen like to divide the year up into seasons of exactly three months according to the Gregorian calendar. Don’t forget, if you are living in the Southern Hemisphere summer is not starting for a long time. If you are a school child in the Northern Hemisphere you may already be on school holidays or may have a long time to wait yet.

If you are on top of Mount Everest it is time to come down, the weather window is nearly over and monsoons are coming. If the summit is as crowded as last week you will have to queue up to come down.

NZ Queenstown

If you are Teresa May, May is over and you only have a week left as leader of the conservative party, but perhaps you have a summer walking holiday to look forward to.

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Summer means we must all look happy and smile at others… if they look up from their phones long enough to notice. If you are a gardener it is safe to plant out your summer bedding and discover how many weeds have taken over… it also means that the non gardeners in the family will have to cook dinner if they don’t wish to starve – the long summer evenings mean you can stay out in the garden watering and dead heading forever.

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What does summer mean to you – putting the chairs out in the garden or going swimming in the sea?

What is your favourite summer song – Cliff Richard’s Summer Holiday or Lovin’ Spoonful’s ‘Summer in the city’?

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Friday Flash Fiction – The Old Forest

The editor was deciding which story to run with on the front page. His young assistant Lisa usually had strong opinions on what would attract readers.

‘This young man has been missing for three days; lives at home, steady job, good character. He had an argument with his girlfriend, drove off and hasn’t been seen since.’

Lisa frowned ‘I still think we should stick with the murdered stallion.’

‘It was a hit and run accident,’ the editor smiled ‘you’ve been reading too many of Mr. Oak’s letters. There’s another one today, shall I include it, or do you think the readers are sick of him?’

‘Yes link it with your leading item. He has got a point.’

‘Banning cars from the New Forest, penalising families because of a few idiots? Mind you, it would stir things up a bit, no good stories this week. Sam’s been out to interview the verderer who found the dead horse. Hmm… main headline Cars To Be Banned From New Forest then much smaller Should cars be banned from the New Forest?’

‘Me and Gavin are going to the forest tomorrow; a nice picnic, then we’re going to his boss’s home for a dinner party. He’s got a posh house hidden in the middle of the forest; I hope we manage to find it.’

Lisa didn’t tell her boss that tomorrow she was going to give Gavin news.

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The picnic was a success; the early spring sun was warm enough for them to sit on a blanket. Lisa was banking on Gavin being pleased, now he had his promotion; she was delighted with his response.

‘That’s wonderful, let’s get married.’ Gavin had been reluctant to ask before; the thought of wedding fairs, months of planning and dressing up had appalled him. Now they had the ideal excuse for a small, quiet wedding very soon. ‘Let’s get married in the forest, a sort of hippy wedding.’

She laughed ‘Why not, but don’t tell anyone this evening, we’ll have to tell our parents first.’

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They enjoyed the evening and their shared secret; even looking benevolently on the boss’s ghastly children.

As they drove home, Gavin teased her. ‘You’ll get a crick in your neck, looking at the speedometer.’

‘We have to be careful in the dark; we might not see a pony till it’s too late. I wish you’d let me drive.’

‘I’ve only had a couple of pints, you should take it easy now you’re pregnant.’

‘We should have stuck to the A 35, it’s creepy out here.’

‘You’re safe with me; this is the real forest.’

‘Did you hear the news this morning? They’ve found that bloke’s car in the forest.’

‘What bloke?’

‘The one who went missing; I told the editor it wasn’t much of a story, now it seems it is. There was no sign of him.’

‘Maybe he wanted to run away.’

‘Perhaps, the car was hidden in the trees, off a remote track. That’s the creepy thing, it might not have been found for years; some botanist was looking for rare plants.’ Lisa looked at the speedometer; the speed had crept up. ‘Gavin, I thought you were going to be more responsible now you’re going to be…’

Her sentence remained unfinished as they felt a bump and Gavin slammed the brakes on.

‘We’ve hit a pony’ cried Lisa.

‘It’s probably a fallen tree trunk, stay in the car while I look.’

Lisa jumped out of the car and they stood either side of the body, a pair of glazed eyes stared up at them.

‘Oh it’s a doe, she’s pregnant. You’ve killed her Gavin.’

‘It was an accident; animals should be asleep at night, not darting out into the road.’

‘We’re not on the road.’

Gavin followed her gaze; if they hadn’t run into the deer they would have crashed into a large old oak tree.

He was puzzled. ‘I’m a careful driver, I had a clear, straight road in front of me, it was narrow, but I had plenty of room.’ He went to fetch the torch from the car, then took Lisa’s shaking hand and led her round to the boot. He shone the torch the way they had just come, a tarmac road. ‘I’m sorry about the deer Lisa, but she saved us; this must be a dead end road.’

‘Let’s go now,’ she shivered we don’t know the verderer’s number, we can ring the police when we get home. We’ll go back the way we came and try and find the A 35.’

‘Or we could just ring nobody’ said Gavin hopefully.

They both jumped at a clumping noise; a large branch had landed on the roof.

‘Another lucky escape; that could have fallen on us while we were driving, hope it hasn’t damaged the paintwork.’

As Gavin tried in vain to pull at the heavy limb, Lisa spoke shakily.

‘It’s not fallen, it’s still attached to the tree. We must be on a slope, the car’s rolled into the tree.’

Gavin shone his torch and saw the driver’s door was jammed against the trunk.

‘I’ll get in your door and climb over. I’m going to put it in reverse.’ As he tried to start the engine he felt a heavy thump on the bonnet. ‘Quick, get in so we’re ready to go, hopefully that branch will slide off the bonnet. Lisa, this is no time for tree hugging…’

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On Monday morning the editor had too much to put on his front page and Lisa wasn’t there to help. He had just spoken to her hysterical mother on the phone. Lisa was missing and her boyfriend had been found wandering in the New Forest by the search party looking for the missing man. Gavin had been in shock and incoherent, so the police arrested him. Everyone knew they had both been to the forest and everyone knew Gavin was the last person to see her.

 

‘The Old Forest’ is one of the stories in this collection – only $1.27 for 27 stories.

 

The Blog of Many Colours

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Times and Tides of a Beachwriter is brought to you today by the colour red, chosen by Rowena who was very happy to pick up a red Alpha Romeo at auction. You can visit her blog here.

https://beyondtheflow.wordpress.com/2019/05/22/ma-ma-friday-fictioneers

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Red is bold, certainly not modest, it adorns the flags of many countries. We obey it at traffic lights and the only time it hides is when it is safely inside our bodies; blood red is ready to gush out of us at any opportunity.

Red is iconic; double decker buses, the Red Arrows of the Royal Air Force and the Forth Bridge. It tells you where to post your letters, where to find a fire extinguisher and still occasionally where to make a phone call. Red tells us when it is Christmas.

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Photographers love a splash of red; a boat in the harbour, a red coat walking in the snow. A red front door looks distinguished.

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Red is one of the three primary colours and one of the four colours humans like to use for organising people. At school I was in the red team, Saint George. Saint Patrick was green, Saint Andrew blue and Saint David yellow.

We are not urged to eat our reds, as we are with greens, but tomatoes and red peppers are healthy and brighten the plate up.

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Long before Christmas existed mid winter was hailed by red berries. In spring it feels a little subdued, except for tulips, but summer brings Mediterranean scarlet with geraniums ( pelargoniums ) and romance with deep red roses. In autumn red reaches for the skies as the leaves turn.

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Much of the earth is red. When I was a child my mother told me Devon had red soil, I could not imagine such a thing, but white chalk cliffs turn to red as you go west along the Jurassic Coast. Northern parts of Australia are red, such as the Pilbara, known for its ancient red landscapes and vast mineral deposits; red also means rich in iron ore. Other continents all have their unique red landscapes.

https://www.australiasnorthwest.com/

Alas red, through no fault of its own, is a political colour. Who decided communism should be red? Nature used red first.

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