Back to Oxford, so I can perform an aspect of my job that still does bring pleasure, and sit in a library for at least two days. The walk to my accommodation took place partly along this stream, a branch of the Thames. Perhaps I did this shot, in spirit, on Saturday, but I’m doing it again. Note the heron hanging around inconspicuously in the centre, hoping that the prey won’t notice it.
High pressure and warm air idling up from Spain, apparently, made this surely the warmest and most pleasant November 12th in my lifetime — even on St Helena last year it was not as nice as this. I refuse to consider this a bad thing: not on the day, at least. I’m sure the ducks think it’s better than the alternative as well.
“That human is taking surreptitious bird shots again.”
“Hah! All that stuff about ‘not repeating himself’… Such rubbish. We’ve been on here before, I’m sure.”
“Yes, I remember that one. Glad you’re talking to me again now.”
“Hmmm, well, I’m still a bit miffed with you but I’m getting over it.”
What is it with robins as a species — why are they, more than any other type of wild bird, so completely unfazed by being a few feet away from a human? Not only that, but a human who has stopped walking, and is pointing a camera at them? This one even hopped from side to side for a minute, offering me a selection of poses. This one won. I hope he approves.
“I dunno mate. It gets worse and worse. Look at these scraps.”
“Know exactly what you mean, Bob. You just can’t get the humans these days. Must be global warming or summat.”
“Well, let’s see what we can get out of it before that twat over there decides to muscle in.”
This pigeon nest has been under observation for a couple of days now, seeing as it resides just above the outdoor seating area in the pub, and for the duration, this fledgling has been receiving plenty of encouragement to leave it. Every so often it comes out, slithers around on the roof tile (some seven feet above the ground) for a while, cheeps in an alarmed fashion, then goes back inside. Mum, or possibly Dad, seems to be getting rather fed up with the whole thing. I can’t say I blame it. My one was off like a shot, first chance he got.
Jays are very handsome birds and it’s a shame we don’t see more of them. I could say that this specimen is the second jay to appear on the blog, but it may be the same one as depicted just under four years ago — as this photo was taken only around 100 yards from that one; both in close proximity to the Ellen Wilkinson building on campus (a.k.a. ‘the office’). I can’t spot any obvious differences in plumage, and I have a feeling that corvids like this can happily live for a decade or more, so I think I will declare this to be only the third bird — after two herons (Humph and Maris Crane) — that might have appeared on here more than once.
There has been a lot of movement around the country for me lately, but today marks the start of a longish stretch at home. As in other such periods I will have to hope that Hebden Bridge keeps me inspired. The local fauna and flora is often a good place to start: this blackbird posed somewhat impatiently, but did allow me to get in his close-ups.
Now, she’s on the nest. If it wasn’t for the presence of the nearby, and bright green, drake (unpictured), I would never have seen this nesting mother among the undergrowth. Seeing as ducks don’t have a great deal of offensive capacity, doubtless this camouflage is her only real protection against having the brood eaten by someone/thing or other. She was definitely keeping an eye on me, put it that way.
Sometimes in my more romantic fantasies of downsizing I wonder what it would be like to live on one of the barges on the Rochdale Canal — but these thoughts never last all that long before I think of the music and movie collections. If I really wanted to do it I’d probably already be doing it. The immediate neighbours would be Canada geese, too.
Being 42 