I’m sure there are worse things to be remembered for, and less appropriate ways of memorialising a loved one. Those whom Barbara left behind are hopefully gratified to see this being properly used. (That is an actual squirrel, in case you were wondering.)
Went on a walk that was neither particularly scenic nor particularly straightforward, but it did have one saving grace: this beauty hovering over the grass of Cutacre Park, between Bolton and Wigan. What must the mouse feel? Does it know its hunter is up there, waiting for it to poke its head out of hiding just for that one crucial second?
Disturbed while I was weeding the garden, this little fella deigned to pose for its close-ups, but its purposefully outstretched front leg suggests it is definitely seeking to move on and continue its own day.
Sometimes Clare gets the final choice of shot on a day and she says that this one has ‘nice colours and shapes’. It tasted pretty good, too. It wasn’t ever going to be an exciting shot today insofar as the most interesting thing that happened was a webinar on pensions: this says a lot about not only the day, but also where I am in my life at this point.
Whatever species of plant this is, it has been sitting, quietly doing very little, in a pot on our window sill (in the lavatory, as it happens) for a good decade or more. This year, without any special prompting, it decided to stretch out this long tendril and flower. Perhaps its time had just come. I doubt it’s been coaxed out of stasis by glorious summer weather, ‘cos we haven’t had any.
Agricultural records (i.e. this blog) of the loganberry plants on our allotment date back to 2018. Lately they have started making regular appearances in July. They are welcome on the plot: they do produce edible, nice fruit and require almost no time and attention whatsoever in order to do this. The latter characteristic is a definite plus.
When I was on holiday in Namibia a couple of months ago, one of the places I stayed had these great pictures on the walls, black and white aerial shots of grazing wildlife, like zebras, wildebeest, elephants. Devil’s Dyke above Brighton could not offer any fauna that was quite so exotic this afternoon, but the cows were contented enough, and this shot is my homage to those Namibian pics. I am pretty sure there are 32 here: you may count differently…
He’s just discovered running. Which means he’s discovering the pleasure of chasing things. The gull will tolerate it for now: revenge will come later, when the kid’s chips get stolen.
This cameo played out in the grounds of Carisbrooke Castle, in the centre of the Isle of Wight — worth a visit, if you want a recommendation. It was the place that Clare and I saw out much of our silver wedding anniversary: we were married on 2nd July 1999, and have made it this far, at least.
The whole flower-in-pub theme appeared a few days ago, but let’s return to it: it is, at least, a different pub, different flower, different day. Limited horizons this week but that ends today as 10 days off work now beckons, so let’s see what trouble I can get into.
There has been a considerable amount of travelling evident over the last two months, and it’s not quite finished yet: I have one more trip to make, coming up. But this week it has been time to settle in back home, and expect most of July and all of August to be much the same, I have writing to get on with. Meanwhile, though, a hole in an old bucket. It might not be in Canada, or Namibia, but it’s still something to enjoy.
Being 42 