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.
Platforms 4 and 5 of Manchester Victoria station, to be precise (making this, incidentally, the 900th shot taken in Manchester). The sign is meaningless in context, but the pigeon seems to be wilfully defying it anyway. On the left (4), the 12:15 to Redcar Central and on the right, the 12:15 to Blackburn, both punctual. But was I on my way into work late, or coming home early?
I know it’s not long since I did a heron but they are good looking creatures with an agreeable habit of staying still for the camera. And this one isn’t the usual stamping ground in Hebden Bridge, but rather Stalybridge, the water being that of the River Tame.
As stated yesterday — a second shot from the same place: from yesterday’s shot, pan to the left, go up a ways and pull back out and this comes in view. Not always with the mist, though there’s usually a bird around somewhere.
Photographically, today was definitely a ‘give thanks to the heron’ day. Had I left the house 30 seconds earlier, you might well have seen the reason for its somewhat smug look, seeing as it has just guzzled a fish almost as long as its throat: I did get a shot of the kill but it was on such a long zoom (and in the same gloomy light as all other shots in the last few days) that the quality is very poor. Take my word for it, though: this is a heron that dined well this afternoon.
Thunderstorms were coming and going all afternoon: here, we are perhaps a quarter of an hour from the next one. In response, the local rail system threw its hands up in fear and went into another one of its spasms, but I just stayed in and watched.
“OK, are you ready? I want you to get my best side…. THAT’S the one. Send me a copy….”
The sunshine continues: if you hear any Britons complaining about the weather this spring, you have my permission to scoff. This jackdaw seems to be enjoying it just like the rest of us.
Red kites (Milvus milvus) were nearly extinct in Britain at the end of the last century but in the 2000s, thanks to some serious efforts on behalf of conservationists, have made a remarkable recovery. If you are aware of the place you might not think that Luton would be one of their strongholds, but that is where this picture was taken, just on the edge of that town. There were a number of them gliding around this afternoon seeking prey, and clearly, Luton is not a great place to be a fieldmouse.
The boobies in question being, of course, the species of seabird (Sula dactylatra), of which there are hundreds, possibly thousands nesting on the Letterbox peninsula, at the eastern tip of Ascension Island. They fly very gracefully but have these big, ridiculous flappy feet and, on the ground, waddle in an amusingly silly fashion. It’s interesting that male and female masked boobies can be distinguished not by their appearance, but by their sound. Males whistle, and females honk. Both noises came out as they watched me pass by, I took the shot, everyone was happy.
Being 42 