The Kelpies are sculptures a hundred feet high that sit beside the M9 motorway in Falkirk, Scotland. They are certainly impressive although I don’t quite see the point. Yes, it would be nicer if the pylons weren’t there, but never mind, you are meant to be distracted by the penetrating stare of the one on the left, while the other does that whole head-tossing thing, all in tons of steel.
These geese literally live in the car park of the Co-op supermarket in Hebden Bridge, and have done for some time. Today, the synchronous exercises: though Gertrude on the right has gone for the ‘tuck’ a little early.
Both species — jackdaws and roofers — are becoming perennial aspects of the house view. The roofers on the Mill have been working there for nearly six months now, and I have the photos to prove it. Even on another frosty morning. Maybe they just like the view too.
I guess if you are the kind of incredible natural acrobat that a squirrel is, it’s easy enough to adapt to features in the urban environment — like this fence next to one of the bike sheds on campus. It looks almost as if I have used a flash to catch this shot but it’s actually a brief flash of wan November sunlight. (In fact there are almost no shots taken with a flash on this blog, as I never use it: maybe, literally, two or three out of all 4,463.)
This is certainly one of the bigger flocks of geese I have seen. I reckon there are upwards of 250 visible on this photo and I didn’t even get the head. How do they co-ordinate this? Who makes the decision to go at a particular time and place? What if one of them heads off and no one follows, does it get annoyed or feel like a bit of an idiot? So many things we do not know about the animal mind.
On another dull day, in all respects, the waterfowl of Hebden Bridge once again save things photographically. As I’ve said on here before, I do like mallards, they seem quite an agreeable species. The duck to the far right definitely looks smug about something.
When I captured this clutch of fungi engaged in consuming this old tree down by the river, I had a feeling that I’d been here before. And so I had — getting on for seven years ago; it was 7/1/2017 when this symbiosis was seen from another angle. They’re taking their time, as the tree carcass doesn’t seem any smaller than it did back then. But if you are a fungus, I guess you see time differently.
On opening the lid of the allotment’s compost barrel this afternoon a whole nest of earthworms was revealed, some four feet up. These two decided they would take the opportunity to return to ground level. The one on the right had a clear head start but the other was catching up. If I was a gambling man…. but instead, I like their translucency. And at least the sun was shining for a little while today, the first sight of it for a few days.
This week has been one of those periods where keeping this blog going is as much an exercise in persistence as it is one of creativity. Despite all the countries that have been seen in the last 12.25 years (see the stats) it’s been seven months since I have left the UK (the last shot taken away from Blighty being this one of the Pyrenees on 5th April). But this will change in 2024, with fairly definite plans for trips to Canada, the US (including New York City) and at least one return to St Helena, via Namibia. So hang in there…. Meanwhile, here’s a shot of a local tree.
Being 42 