Although not as mild as it has been, today felt like one of those Sundays where it was perfectly permissible to take it easy. And in my local area, there are worse places to do this than down by — or in these guys’ case, on — the canal.
Welcome back to Dubai, for my third trip here after 2019 and last year. Purely for work, well, except today when I had a day off thanks to teaching all of the weekend that is to come. Dubai Creek is why the city is here, being the inlet of the Persian Gulf around which the original settlement was founded. These days it’s just another part of the big shopping mall that the city has become, albeit with cuter buildings and some cats. Oh yes, and lots of seagulls.
“Hi Bob. Good pickings today, don’t you think?”
“Definitely. Must be all those people driving back from their Christmasses in Scotland. Ahh… look, I see an abandoned Kit-kat over there.”
“Sure — see you later….”
2025 is ending with a very Hebden-bound period of time, but I can’t say I mind. The weather is not conducive to any walking plans (then again, in December it rarely is) and I’m just getting on with the reading. Our ‘Eiffel Tower’ is called thus because it marks the end of the row of houses known as Eiffel Buildings; it might not be as imposing as the one in Paris but it’s still a cute building. The birds and mist add the necessary atmospherics.
God, look at the time. If this looks like it is taken over some misty marshland somewhere, it’s an illusion — instead it was captured from the 3rd floor of the Ellen Wilkinson Building, as I made my leisurely way to my 4pm class, which doesn’t even manage to start before sunset at this time of year. And still ten days to go until the solstice.
“Who’s this guy then?”
“No idea. Another tourist with a thing for pigeons I suppose. Like London’s the only place that has them.”
“Pervert. Perhaps if I scowl at him he’ll go away.”
There was a big overflight of geese tonight. They came in waves, sub-flocks of 20-30 at a time (I count 22 in this particular group). Wherever the destination, they were leaving for somewhere else. There’s something a little melancholy about it all — the first intimations of autumn.
I don’t think I have ever seen a brood of ducklings as large as this. Even though a couple of them are only glimpsed on this shot (there’s one right behind the duck, and another mostly concealed in the left-hand group) there were definitely nine of them. No wonder she looked somewhat frazzled: and there was an equally stressed-looking drake in the vicinity too. Still, they’re a good size: quite an achievement in fact.
Incidentally this was taken at Dunsop Bridge in the Forest of Bowland, a few yards from where, on 27/12/2011, I depicted Clare stood in the phone box that is still there, being the reputed “centre of Britain”. That was 4,911 days ago, meaning that Dunsop Bridge now takes over as the place with the longest gap between appearances on this blog. Can things get any more exciting, you ask? Hey, this particular journey has only just started.
I’m sure birds have just as much of a developed weather sense as do humans. Why wouldn’t they? High winds, for a start, could really screw up that trip they were planning to make to, say, the local household waste centre. These guys may or may not be trying to sort some stuff out before the latest heavy shower comes rolling in, just as we might speed up our journey home from the shops in the face of a cloud like this.
Only a few weeks back the gawky thing with over-size feet would have been an adorable little ball of golden fluff. We all go through an awkward phase at adolescence though, don’t we. The pigeon, meanwhile, is attempting to recruit this new arrival in the war against the ducks, but soon, the goose will realise it is above all that rubbish.
Being 42 