A few weeks ago, I blogged about plastic rubbish on the beach. But that isn't the only rubbish. A big rash of ugly and largely unnecessary signage is - to my eyes - just as obtrusive and out of place.

These horrible railings and signs were put on the end of the Cobb wall in Lyme Regis some years ago now, transforming a historical monument into a monument to the litigation society. Some idiot fell off the Cobb during a storm and sued the town council for damages. Fortunately he lost on appeal, but this is his legacy.

A few hundred yards west, there is a natural beach, whose wilderness is spoiled by this large and ugly sign, telling us to beware of, amongst other things, tides, rocks, waves and currents. How unexpected on a beach.

On the front proper, there are warning signs every few hundred yards like this. Caution: The shingle beach shelves steeply - as a cursory inspection will confirm.

Stuff like this negates Darwinian selection. The human race will become more stupid and unable to take responsibility with every generation.

One of my favourite weekend activities is to visit Bridport on a Saturday morning.

This is a lively market town: the market not only sells the usual tat, but you can buy local food, French cheeses and charcuterie, and a wide range of antiques and collectibles (whole stalls with nothing but old carpentry tools, chandelier glass and brass knobs, 1930s costume jewellery to name a few). On a sunny Saturday like the one just past, wandering along the streets watching the shoppers is a pastime in itself!

There is usually a band playing in the quaintly named Bucky-Doo Square (allegedly rhyming slang because the public toilets are nearby!). This Saturday, there was a band playing the blues - which brought a quick tear to my eyes, as it made me wonder if Humph was listening from on high. I usually scoff at people who say that they feel sad when famous people they don't know have died - but Humphrey Lyttleton was such an engaging presence on the radio, I felt I knew him quite well. (Anyone who hasn't heard his unique brand of humour can listen to some clips here.)

On to more cheerful subjects - we then visited the Allsop Gallery at the Arts Centre. I wanted to catch the Francis Newbery exhibition before it ends, and was glad I did. Such a treat to see paintings by such a consummate artist - though some of them needed cleaning as they were very dingy. I was particularly interested to read that, when he was learning his craft, he was taught how important it was to master the materials and techniques of painting and drawing. A message probably frowned on in these PC days of installation and conceptual art (and it shows).

http://www.franewbery.co.uk/ is the official web site.

The next event at the Arts Centre is one of those where you read the blurb and still don't really know what sort of right-on stuff will greet your eyes. Nuff said, really!

Oak trees have long been a beloved part of the lowland English countryside, and they are, in many ways, one of the iconic symbols of our country - think of the song "Hearts of Oak" for example.

I am glad to see that the UK Google homepage has a St George motif today, even if they forgot to include the flag - of which I can see a specimen fluttering from the flagpole on the village church.

And I wanted to share this photo with you - the shadow of an early-morning oak tree just down the hill from where I live. I always visit it at this time of year, just to enjoy the play of light and shade on the dewy grass before coming home for a well-deserved breakfast.

It's the warmest day for a long time, the sun is out, the blackbirds are singing, and I feel full of hope and optimism. I love this time of the year, when Mother Nature is turning restlessly under her green duvet, almost ready to jump out of bed and get to work.

My little pesky grey friends are zooming about the trees chattering at each other when they aren't nicking the birds' food ...

... and excellent news on the home front: 'my' family of pheasants, whose temporary disappearance I wrote about, have now returned to the garden. In fact, Mr has picked up some extra wives on his travels, and there are sometimes 5 or 6 waiting for breakfast.

... or unnerve the cows. BBC Spotlight last night had a rather bizarre piece about a farmer who uses Tai Chi to calm his cows. The poor beast watching from a crush looked unsettled rather than soothed, I have to report.

Visit http://www.love-om.com/om-tai-chi.ashx to see the moves in action. No wonder townies think us odd.

I'm a bit worried about my garden pheasants. Yesterday at teatime, a fox was wandering about the lawn as bold as brass, sniffing round the bird table and the pheasants' hide in the rockery. The cock pheasant was kicking up a real indignant racket, though the fox ignored him and went on to investigate the bonfire ashes.

I haven't seen or heard him or his harem this morning - usually, they are waiting under the utility room window for me when I get up to make the tea, heads cocked, waiting for some magic corn to rain down on them! This is a photo of them at breakfast that I took in the snow earlier this week - sorry about all the water on the window

... neither unseasonable snowstorm a winter presage - to paraphrase Aristotle.

Today, I saw my first swallow of 2008 whilst I was out photographing the snow this afternoon. I hope the poor creature can find enough insects to survive.

I had to be quick - as the covering only lasted about 30 minutes after the sun came out, as you can see from these two photos:

I only wandered a few minutes from the house, but was enchanted by the unexpected views.

One of my favourite trees on Cannington Lane

Docks in an uncultivated corner catching the snow

[Edit] Snow has been a popular topic over the weekend - lots of my friends here have also commented on various aspects:

•  the Homely Year
•  Missy Mouse
•  Tylluan Penry
•  Ellie Gant
•  Lissa T
•  Mr Flighty

- and apologies to anyone I missed!