Monday 22nd March 2021, 4.30pm (day 3,497)

A generally optimistic sheen to the day. Even the unused footbridge in the arse end of Victoria station has had a new coat of paint, and I suspect the pigeons know this somehow.

A generally optimistic sheen to the day. Even the unused footbridge in the arse end of Victoria station has had a new coat of paint, and I suspect the pigeons know this somehow.

“Lately, the humans have been conspicuous by their absence, don’t you think dear?”
“Indeed. There’s this bloke with the long hair who often hangs out by the riverside. But I think he’s harmless.”
“I agree. That’s why we let him take these close-ups.”

This is not the first time that I have photographed evidence that the fake owls that stand on some of the buildings in Hebden Bridge fail to deter the pigeons in any way. But it is the first time I have caught one with a pigeon actually sat on its head. The humiliation is complete.

Hollingworth Lake is a reservoir, and for 200 years has also been a sort of strange, inland beach resort, where thousands of people once flocked on weekends — something that can still seem as if it’s the case. Even at 9.35 on a Sunday, early morning sunshine had brought lots of people out today, including me (because it’s healthy). The birdlife didn’t really care however. They watch us, just as we watch them, I am sure.

Media rhetoric suggests we should all be grateful that Our Glorious Leaders have announced a ‘roadmap’ out of lockdown but none of that changes the fact that for now, and for weeks yet, there’s nothing to do. The ducks continue to have a far better social life than us, At least the evenings are getting lighter, the days (a little) warmer.

More waterfowl. Then again, more snow. Recurring themes, but everything is recurring. Overhead cables of whatever kind are usually an irritant, but I don’t mind them here.

I wouldn’t usually put up a shot that was so out of focus but it certainly sums up the weather, and it made me smile that I had captured this duck shaking off the rain that fell constantly today. A smile was needed — life is run, at the moment, according to the whim of the weather and this was the most depressing of ‘weekend’ days thanks to the rain. A shame I couldn’t call this page ‘drake shake’ though.

Correctly, it is owls that gather together in parliaments. But when do you ever see more than one owl together? The term seems to better fit these pigeons, sat on top of the Big Ben-style clock that graces what used to be a hotel in the centre of Hebden, now it’s apartments. Like all stopped clocks, it gives the right time twice a day.

As government policy and public fear continue to ravage our lives and economies, I speculate as to what kind of future awaits, and ahead there’s an old-man version of me that just wanders through our empty town each afternoon to spend time watching the ducks. They are peaceful, good-looking creatures, they clearly have some basic society, with obvious couples, occasional spats and arguments, and an ability to understand and make use of the dynamics of water flow for their own personal edification. This duck seems proud of her own drake and watches the other two parade past in much the same way as might a haughty woman sat outside a café. To my eyes, anyway. There is little else to look at right now.
A choice today. Do I go with the more artistic and in-focus portrait of the jackdaw alone, or this group shot? Let’s do this one. It’s funnier. The duck appears quite cheerful about the jackdaw’s attention — but the drake is definitely giving his rival a dirty look.