The snowdrops always come first. Earlier than usual? Perhaps, but not excessively so, and they are sitting in a nice, sheltered spot. This is not some rural woodland though; in fact these are on the uni campus, just next to the Roscoe building.
There have been a couple of exceptions — namely 2018, when I was in Germany, and 2021 on St Helena (and in 2019 I was about to go to Indonesia but not quite yet on my way) — but the 22nd November is not usually a date on which much happens. I find this a depressing, enervating time of year to be honest. Everything’s in decline yet we are still weeks from the turnaround point at the solstice. This rose hip (and feel free to correct me if I’ve got the botany wrong) is still putting in an effort, I guess, but most of the rest of nature has kinda given up. I know how it feels.
October 2025 began without a great deal happening, at least not to me. For now I am staying in my little bubble. Maybe this shot is representative of that, somehow, but maybe it’s just a nice splash of colour.
Must have had at least a dozen attempts at capturing this example of insectile wiggliness. Don’t know why we call them ‘bumblebees’ though — they don’t seem to bumble to me, they are very systematic. Just this much time at each flower. Which is why, once I finally got the rhythm of it, I got the shot.
This big patch of daffs is coming into flower rather later than many others in the vicinity, but some confident early adopters have made a start on it. Actually I like this picture more for the bark of the tree, which looks very ancient and Ent-like. This is all in the middle of the UoM campus, not a space normally renowned for feeling rural.
Crocuses are an annual marker, coming out at the same time each year. This being the case they work as a marker of Joe’s birthday, which is on Tuesday. Each year I remember 2003, which had a very warm first few days of March, spent mostly in Calderdale Royal Hospital while we waited (and Clare pushed, for days) for him to make his appearance. Crocuses were coming up everywhere then, and here are more, 22 years later.
Whatever species of plant this is, it has been sitting, quietly doing very little, in a pot on our window sill (in the lavatory, as it happens) for a good decade or more. This year, without any special prompting, it decided to stretch out this long tendril and flower. Perhaps its time had just come. I doubt it’s been coaxed out of stasis by glorious summer weather, ‘cos we haven’t had any.
The whole flower-in-pub theme appeared a few days ago, but let’s return to it: it is, at least, a different pub, different flower, different day. Limited horizons this week but that ends today as 10 days off work now beckons, so let’s see what trouble I can get into.
Herb Robert being the common name of Geranium robertianum; which grows in relative profusion in a certain beer garden in Hebden Bridge town centre. Well, there’s no football on Saturdays in June, I need something to look at.
Always finding a reason to bring 42 into the narrative, I note this is the first Hebden Bridge pic for 42 days, the last being on 10th April: my second-longest run without a HB pic on the blog (the longest being the 127-day trip in 2013, to Australia). In those six weeks these tomato plants have been nurtured by the wife and taken over the window sill. Bring on the next stage…
Being 42 