The snowdrops always come first. Earlier than usual? Perhaps, but not excessively so, and they are sitting in a nice, sheltered spot. This is not some rural woodland though; in fact these are on the uni campus, just next to the Roscoe building.
A fourth appearance for Hugo, and this portrait sums up his general character as well as anything. Since we last saw him I believe he has lost a couple of crucial parts of his anatomy (y’know) but it doesn’t seem to have changed him much.
Along the stone retaining wall of Hebden Bridge railway station grow substantial patches of moss, and this little fellow was hopping along and burrowing into every little bit of it this morning, in search of food, unconcerned by my relatively nearby presence and far more bothered about staying warm on a cold winter’s day. Look how fluffed up its feathers are. I hope it sees out the winter.
2025 has been a very good year for the garden, probably the best ever in terms of the amount of food grown and gathered. We had so many plums that they couldn’t all get picked and used before the wasps or some other rot got them. I think these ones are well past their best though. Taken during today’s job — pruning the tree, so it can produce more fruit in 2026, we hope.
“Hi Bob. Good pickings today, don’t you think?”
“Definitely. Must be all those people driving back from their Christmasses in Scotland. Ahh… look, I see an abandoned Kit-kat over there.”
“Sure — see you later….”
This spider was not a big one, but its web was expansive enough, and as you can see, it’s still hard at work with the building. What marvellous creatures these are: there are many species which build some kind of dwelling, of course, but can’t manage it purely with goo extruded out from their bodies.
However, you can see that it’s working on the outside of a rather grubby window (the kitchen one, as it happens). By the evening, evidence (like, a bill on the doormat) then suggested our window cleaner had been round on one of his seasonal visits and all this was nowhere to be seen. I bet the spider was substantially pissed off, I know I would have been.
Looking at the record allowed by the Nutclough Woods tag, my time in the woodland across the road has fluctuated down the years. While I know my tagging is not 100% reliable, it seems like I was not there (or, at least, not taking decent pictures) throughout the whole of 2024. On the other hand — during spring 2020 (you remember) I seem to have been there very frequently. I wonder why. I do think the old millpond up there has recovered some of its water level in the last few months, not necessarily to do with recent rainfall.
Another well-lit shot of flora on campus, taken within a few yards of yesterday’s shot. At least the sun is shining at the moment and we have not yet quite hit the usual early December gloom. And look, people! There haven’t been many of them in the last three weeks… And no I don’t care about the asymmetry.
I believe these clusters of bright and, definitely, orange berries are firethorn [genus Pyracantha] — doubtless someone will correct me if I am wrong. A whole slew of them have grown to cover the fence outside the Ellen Wilkinson Building, anyway. Valuable winter bird food, apparently.
On a day of almost constant rain these two made a stoic but attractive couple. The one on the left is certainly thinking a) why he has been so carefully groomed, almost like an anatomical diagram and b) why, unlike his mate, he wasn’t deemed worthy of a coat.
Being 42 