Crops in the morning sunlight.

  

Barley

 Beans, right

Vines, left

 

Too early to say what this is.

Maize?

I'll keep you posted.

Phew! Just in time.

Before they mow the road verge...

This is what is decorates the lane. 

Take a good look now because soon somebody will come along 

and mow the verge and it will all disappear.

Passport Portraits of Yesteryear no. 45

Continuing the series of passport portraits in my collection.
Peruse and wonder.

Hans Koster, a 26 yr. old German journalist from Berlin was posted to London in 1935. As an alien, working in the UK, he was obliged to register his movements and changes of address at his local police station.

He lived at Museum Mansions opposite the British Museum and then at Cliffords Inn in the City of London.

Returning to England from a short stay in Germany on 27 January 1939, his permission to stay in the United Kingdom was extended until 15 September 1939. Britain declared war on Germany on 3 September but there is no record in his registration book of his having subsequently departed from the UK. Eighty years later I find this book in Spain – a Fascist country which remained neutral during the war.

Yes, but not really....

Just the sign which you do not want to see when you have cycled ten miles and are still eight miles from home.

But it's not really closed to cyclists.

If you can carry your bicycle on your shoulder and walk with one foot directly in front of the other then you can squeeze through the gap between 

the five foot deep hole in the road 

and the hedge.

And after that the road is nice and quiet. 

Because cars cannot do that.

A morning shower.

A light shower of rain was chasing me up the hill out of Canterbury.

It eventually caught me but then I was rewarded with

a rainbow.

 

Can we have our coats, please?

Can we have our coats, please? 

You can't miss them – they're white and woolly and we had them 

when we came in.  

Baaa!

Slow start.

 

Another slow start to the day but the low lying mist promising some fine weather perhaps.

 

 By the time I reach Stelling Minnis the day has started and the cattle are grazing loose on the Minnis.

A Tour of the Dung Hills

 

 Cycling around the countryside is not all pretty flowers and fluffy bunnies.

 I see five dung heaps on my ride. Luckily, they are all within whiffing distance of the lane.

 

This one on the left is steaming in Upper Hardres

 Strictly speaking this on the right is not a dung heap, it is residue from a sewage farm. 

You can always distinguish it by its uniform black appearance and a distinctive metallic bouquet.

A nice vintage heap, displaying a reassuring crust for its age.

Do you know, you can even buy the stuff if you want to?

Passport Portraits of Yesteryear no. 44

Continuing the series of passport portraits in my collection.
Peruse and wonder.

On the left is Mr. Patrick Hunt, a 34 yr. old stonecutter from County Wexford in Ireland. This is his photograph in his passport of the new Irish Free State. Within five weeks of its issue in 1928 he has visited the USA Consulate in Dublin and obtained his visa to emigrate to the USA.

On the right is Mr. Patrick Francis Hunt, thirty four years later. He has now acquired an additional Christian name, an American passport and an address in new York.