More flowers. Then again, it is spring: a sunny, but chilly day today. If this is taken to represent my spending time today frolicking in the countryside, it shouldn’t be — teaching has restarted and I spent the whole day on campus. These bluebells sprout outside the entrance to the Chemistry building, in which, most of the semester, I have had the late afternoon slot in theatre G54.
As anyone with a lawn, or responsibilities for some other kind of open grassy space, knows, it’s dandelion season. Soon these will sprout their seeds and fill the air with them, and later on, there will be a bunch more dandelions. That’s nature for you, I guess.
“You can’t see me. I’m not really here.” Well, the black is a kind of anti-camouflage when put against the bright colours of spring and all that. Anyway Hebden has a great many jackdaws and wherever you look there’s a good chance of seeing at least one.
I have mulled over this for a little while and come to the consclusion that this is definitely the most pleasing photo taken today, so apologies to these two entities for invading their pivacy somewhat. But if they are going to get down to it in public, specifically by platform 2 of Hebden Bridge railway station at 11.30 this morning, then that’s their decision. Warm weather has brought out the ladybirds in firce over the last couple of weeks and from the looks of it we are going to see more of them.
This is, pretty much, the attitude I affected for most of the day. The weather was grim, and if it counted as ‘nice weather for ducks’, well, he’s doing his best to ignore it.
This ladybird first turned up on Wednesday in my home office and might have made that day’s shot — I got a reasonable one of it sitting by the Mac — had the cock-up at the football not happened. It then hitched a ride downstairs on a tea mug; I noticed it miments before it would have got bunged in the dishwasher, so saved its little ass from an unpleasanr death and left it sitting in one of our kitchen’s grimier corners.
24 hours later I saw it again: surely the same one, as it had barely moved. Still sluggish from waking up after the winter, I guessed — except then it sort of wriggled a bit and dumped this crust of old carapace onto, as it happens, the side my plastic lunch box. At this point I went and got the camera. And captured what might be a look of slight disdain: ‘now that stupid thing has gone I can grow a bit more and get back to terrorising aphids’. Fine by me: who wants greenfly in the house anyway. Have a good spring. mate.
Last day in Dubai. Taking a picture of attendees at the course I’ve been teaching on while here (undepicted…) there was a frisson of excitement as I pulled out my ‘vintage’ compact camera, as if usage of such things is simply anachronistic in 2026. I have tried taking photos on the phone, though, and it just doesn’t work as well when it comes to zoom and focus. I doubt this pic could possibly have been taken on a phone, not the combination of detail in the foreground and the soft-focus of the background, not from the distance at which I was standing, anyway. And it’s that combination that I like here. When this camera finally does die — and it won’t be long, I predict — I will try to get another one. And another, until we’re all so anachronistic that we’re not here any more.
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.
Along the stone retaining wall of Hebden Bridge railway station grow substantial patches of moss, and this little fellow was hopping along and burrowing into every little bit of it this morning, in search of food, unconcerned by my relatively nearby presence and far more bothered about staying warm on a cold winter’s day. Look how fluffed up its feathers are. I hope it sees out the winter.
“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….”
Being 42 