This canal — and its birdlife — have featured once before, in Slaithwaite. But whereas that’s a fairly rural spot, this picture was taken in the midst of the industry of Huddersfield itself. Still, it delivered a mallard so superbly lit it might have employed a Hollywood lighting director, which graciously posed in the midst of slurping up the nearby vegetation.
Continuing my two-day walk, in the morning, the heath was at points a profusion of cobwebs, highlighted by dew and the morning sun: this photo captures a portion of it but cannot reflect the sheer scale of this spider-city, a fly’s vision of hell. When I returned past this point a few hours later, there was no sign of all this. Note the little brown leaf trapped to centre right, proof this is not a monochrome shot.
So many blackberries. So little freezer space. This clump dangles tantalisingly off the wall at the end of Victoria Road, ten feet up; no one can pick them. But then again so much of this free bounty remains unharvested at the end of a summer; and so in November, the shops feel it’s OK to sell the imports from Guatemala. What a waste…
Wilfully ignoring the political developments of the day — let’s photograph some food instead. Two days after being picked, these blueberries have darkened to become indistinguishable, colour-wise, from the blackberries tossed in the bowl with them. Add some sugar and cream, and eat to forget.
The last few days have seemed a bit drab colour-wise. But the blue skies returned today. This peacock butterfly (not a red admiral, as I originally identified it — apparently) was enjoying the local buddleia bounty.
Whatever the reason for the journey, travelling on the Cumbrian Coast rail line is always an aesthetic pleasure. If the windows of the carriage are clean, that’s even better.
The recent rains have made the river frisky, and though the ducks’ usual mid-stream gathering place, this little island, is under water at the moment this just seems to give them an excuse to enjoy a paddle. They seem quite sociable about it.
Mathilda runs this courtyard area which I walk through when I’m going to the supermarket, so I see her regularly. We’re best buddies and she likes having her picture taken. This can be judged from the fact that today’s appearance on the blog is her fifth, making her the joint holder of the ‘most depicted animal’ award, along with one of the Muscovy ducks. Only a handful of people have made it on more often. But she’s getting old, one can tell. What’s sad is that no one will think to tell me when she dies.
I had to get myself out into some fresh air — the thunderstorms, which have been a constant presence for days, also relented. The sheep seem still to suspect me of some nefarious and unstated crime however. There was a lot of this today; sheep were definitely the dominant lifeform in the region.
This somewhat alarming example of the taxidermist’s ‘art’ was on display at the flea market in Hebden Bridge this afternoon. So many questions are begged I am not sure I know where to start. The rather evil-looking rodent descending from top left raises its own issues, too.
Being 42 