And so, after two days of photographing monuments — and, y’know, doing a bit of work — I head home again. My colleague and I were wondering how these pigeons got into the Sheremetyevo airport buildings, but maybe they don’t even bother leaving; I should imagine there is more than enough here to feed and shelter them, rather like that Tom Hanks character in The Terminal. Warmer than a Moscow winter, anyway.
There haven’t been many animals on here lately so let’s rectify that. If anyone living toward the top of Highfield Crescent was getting any reception problems with their satellite signal this afternoon, here’s why.
I sympathise. I’m sure we’ve all been there.
Spent a little while today watching this bird (probably a jackdaw although I have given up trying to identify these species accurately) working out how it could get at the bounty inside this rubbish skip with its marginally open lid. This was the moment of triumph.
Impossible to be sure whether this is the same heron that has (possibly) had a few appearances on this blog over the last 18 months — including this one for instance. Comparing the photos I think this one may be a different, and younger, one. To me it looks a bit like a very thin person who has just been reluctantly dipped in a swimming pool and is now standing by the side of the water, shivering, knock-kneed and wrapped in a grey bathrobe. But it was a sunny spot to dry out this morning, either way,
Visited Haworth today, mainly to get out of the house on this week off work. Haworth gives good cemetery; it also appears to have a flock of (apparently) feral chickens which occupy the same evolutionary niche as pigeons do in other similar places. So, a chicken in a cemetery then. Why not? It pleases the tourists.
I can see no explanation for the burst of feathers on the neck of this pigeon than it has recently had an extremely close encounter with some kind of ballistic missile — a piece of shot, an air rifle pellet — not unlike (in pigeon terms) one of those stories where a WW1 trenches veteran got his cigarette case taken neatly out but he survived. Or Steve Buscemi’s character in Fargo (if you’ve seen it, you know). I apologise to the paid-up members of the Society Avoiding Cruelty to Pigeons on behalf of the perpetrator, but I didn’t do it, honestly, I’m just documenting.
Everyone was enjoying the good weather today. This robin in the garden had a look around, decided I was no threat at all, fluffed its feathers up, spread its wings and settled in for a few minutes’ quiet drying out time. This seemed a perfectly good response to the sunshine as far as I was concerned.
I would like to say this is a shot that highlights the biodiversity and ecological health of Manchester city centre. But actually I think this goose was rather lost and confused. Not that I was going to be the one to help it find its way back to the canal (or wherever); Canada geese are vicious buggers.
A lack of cheap hotel rooms in the centre of London led to us staying last night in Stratford, on the doorstep of Olympic Park, venue for the 2012 Games. We went on a walk round there this morning. This counts as East rather than Central London, but is more than urban enough and, as is obvious from this picture, sees the occasional football fan now and again (though not this weekend).
When I first saw this cormorant perched on a post beside the unseen River Lea below, I genuinely thought it was a fake, put there as some vaguely cute piece of urban design when all this was built a few years ago. Then it moved. I wish I could have got a better photo of it — I had another one, a close-up, which made the wings look amazing but the head was out of focus and it didn’t locate it in this bizarre geographical context. I guess if birds like this can turn up in central London we may occasionally be doing something right with the environment.
Being 42 