As well as a profusion of fruit this year does seem to have produced larger-than-usual amounts of fungi. I don’t know what species is this butter-coloured toadstool, but I liked the way one of them had turned up its edges and thus allowed a little pool of water to gather at the top, that then glinted in what sunlight had managed to push through the trees above. Like a little bird-bath in a garden. The fairies gather…
The further north you go, the earlier the trees turn. Those who want to see displays like this in late September, come to northern Finland. The back of the traffic sign gives nice contrast.
Plums. We are drowning in them. Possibly not as many as the all-time Bumper Plum Year that was 2015, but after a final harvest this morning, the now-empty tree has given up at least 30 lbs this year (14 kg). Want plums? We have them.
“Skkrrzzz-thttt. Lander to Moonbase Theta. Small crater to negotiate. Fzzztt.”
Or perhaps it’s an aphid on a wet table. You decide.
The weather was mostly good over these two days and only in the final hour or so was there some drizzle. This came down while I descended, aching and exhausted, from Scarth Gap (the notch in the hillside above) to Buttermere, while these sheep all went up the other way. There is a shepherd and dog just out of shot to the left. I did get some shots of them all coming up towards me as well, but this is the best one.
Hebden Bridge, and my life, have their local personalities, some of whom have appeared multiple times on the blog. Mathilda, who is generally in charge of the territory around the junction of Valley Road and Victoria Road, is definitely one of them, and this is her fourth appearance on the blog in total. And a very attractive creature she is too.
Two days of total indolence are in progress for me, this being the first. I avoided the temptation to present a photo of this afternoon’s football result (Brighton & Hove Albion 3, Manchester United 2 — oh yes oh yes) and so this one will do. The woman in beige maybe regrets encouraging the geese to visit her for a snack.
For the second time on this holiday a seagull demands I do its close-ups. Could I (or it) have asked for better light? We are now on Alderney, a 15-minute flight north of Guernsey on a tiny plane on which we were three of only five passengers. Like Sark, but unlike on Guernsey, the sun shone and there is a palpable feeling of otherness, separateness, on this little isle which the bigger one didn’t really have. Two more days away to come.
We went to LIhou today, a tiny islet that can be reached by a causeway at low tide that has one house, one old ruin, and lots of seabirds. I was taking this one’s portrait when it decided to launch itself from the rock, fortunately I still pressed the shutter, just in case. It only went about ten feet to the right, before landing on another stone, so I think just wanted me to get the action shot.
Each year I have done this a picture has appeared of the blackberry bounty, and that provides a chance to measure its position in the year. They are early this year, probably unsurprisingly, but not as early as 2014. Either way there has been a sudden ripening (blackening) of thousands of them in the last week or so. I went hunter-gathering today. The stump in the background is Heptonstall Church, by the way.
Being 42 