Cheap this may be, but ths squirrel was virtually posing for the camera, if a little nervously. It was one of the few signs of life on campus today, or even in the whole of Manchester.
Spring Wood is its name…. but it is going to feel like a very long time until spring. With weeks of stagnancy and economic devastation to come, let us at least hope there are more days with as good weather as today. If Bojo thinks I’m staying at home on such a day, he is mistaken.
With parties forbidden — by law — there was little to do except go for another walk as a way of trying to see the world. All in all, a fungus-ridden slab of dead wood seems to be a suitable metaphor for the last day of 2020. So be it.
My favourite photo of the year? Well, there have been fewer opportunities, all told, for creativity but I do like the one of the fox I took above Kentmere, Cumbria, on 4th March. I couldn’t believe that when I first saw it, it did not flee from me, but sat down to keep an eye on me (almost certainly because there were cubs nearby). It was certainly a poser, as foxes go.
“Oh, hello, Ms Grey. Lovely day for the time of year.”
“Indeed, Ms. Brown. The good weather’s brought the humans out, too.”
“Yes, I hear this is one of the best spots in Norfolk to see humans. Ah well, time for a swim.”
This little chap becomes the latest robin to prove that members of his species really don’t see the humans as things to be worried about. He kept a close eye on us as we (Clare, Joe and I) had our sandwiches, while undertaking another County Top walk. This took place nowhere near Hebden Bridge, nor do we intend to be there for a while. Draw your own conclusions.
This is also the latest in a notable run of pictures taken at 1:nn pm: six of the last seven. Times of pictures are never chosen, they just happen; it’s a kind of random number generator, though admittedly some times (daylight, namely) are more likely to appear than others. But a run of this consistency is unusual.
Surely swans know how good looking they are? This is the Charlize Theron of the bird world. Look at the twinkle in its eye as it poses for the camera.
The grey gloom of life is matched by the weather and none of these conditions make for optimal photography. This day last year I was having a very fine day out in Indonesia (and photographing butterflies 5,000 feet up); two years ago I’d just come back from Germany. No similar excursions look feasible for quite some time. The local birdlife will have to sustain me today. I do quite like the correspondence between its little red legs and the chimney pots in the background.
I didn’t leave the house all day today. There didn’t really seem a great deal of point. This tortoiseshell butterfly has also moved in, it seems. I guess a domestic house is like an old people’s home for butterflies; the winter isn’t biting yet but I doubt these will last long outside, regardless. It’s welcome to inhabit our living room. It gave me something to photograph today, at least.
Another deeply unexciting day. At the moment, this fungus probably has more of a social life than the whole human population of the UK. I chose this shot because I like the stately swelling of the grey trunk to either side; but the fungus has made it inside, and looks there to stay.
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.
