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.
Once again, not the most exciting day, photographically or otherwise. But this one can make the cut for the curiosity factor of a pre-8am shot in Manchester: the earliest taken there since December 2022. These used to happen a lot more often; in 2019 alone I count six. But in 2019 I was still trying to be some kind of ‘manager’ at work. Not any more. These days, the Exchange Square pigeons can have their early morning paddles without me. In fact that was the last day I will be on campus until the 22nd.
The bird theme continues: this is the fourth in a week. A well-lit moment presented itself, and I took it. The local Canada geese were very noisy this morning — a symphony of honking, which I attributed to the fact that it’s surely gosling-making season around now.
“Who you calling a Liver Bird? I ain’t no Liver Bird. Call me that again and I will eat your chips.”
There seem to be a lot of sparrows in Gibraltar, and many of them have acquired the habit of hanging around restaurants and cafés: which seems a reasonable evolutionary adaptation to me. On Sunday I went into one place that had an entire flock of them seemingly living inside the building. Here, we are outside, but nevertheless, this chap looks quite content with his lot. All three of us — me, the bird, and the guy behind — were waiting for our lunch.
C said she liked both the bird (‘magnificent’, she put it) and the stonework. I, myself, can see no other reasons to like the shot. So these things will do as a title.
Being 42 