I forget exactly how much our plum tree produced last year but it was at least 20kg (or more than 44 pounds): its all-time record for a single harvest. It won’t do this again in 2024, simply because it never does have two glut years in a row. But the blossom’s out, at least.
After yesterday’s exertions I did not feel like going very far at all; like this mallard, I was content just to sit and watch the world go by, to be honest. (And tomorrow won’t be much different.)
My ability to summon a robin now does not even need to involve any digging. Just go and sit down in the garden for five minutes and he turns up anyway, just to check things out. With largely frozen soil at the moment, though, I guess he’s probably hungry. This may well be the same bird as depicted here or here: the photos are all taken in the same place (our allotment) and robins are territorial beasts.
As seen on the canalised part of the River Calder, in Brighouse, early this afternoon. I hope it was enjoying the sunshine, as it gave its demonstration of fluid dynamics.
Yesterday’s drive home went only as far as Morecambe, with the rest being done today. Staying at the in-laws’ always gives the chance to watch the local birdlife feed on the ample supplies Dave (Clare’s Dad) leaves out for them. Not that capturing them, in this case, on another dull day, through both a window and a network of branches proved very easy. Out of the many shots I tried none of them were all that sharp. But I quite like the somewhat disdainful look of the one on the right as it watches its buddy trough the bounty.
These geese literally live in the car park of the Co-op supermarket in Hebden Bridge, and have done for some time. Today, the synchronous exercises: though Gertrude on the right has gone for the ‘tuck’ a little early.
Both species — jackdaws and roofers — are becoming perennial aspects of the house view. The roofers on the Mill have been working there for nearly six months now, and I have the photos to prove it. Even on another frosty morning. Maybe they just like the view too.
I guess if you are the kind of incredible natural acrobat that a squirrel is, it’s easy enough to adapt to features in the urban environment — like this fence next to one of the bike sheds on campus. It looks almost as if I have used a flash to catch this shot but it’s actually a brief flash of wan November sunlight. (In fact there are almost no shots taken with a flash on this blog, as I never use it: maybe, literally, two or three out of all 4,463.)
This is certainly one of the bigger flocks of geese I have seen. I reckon there are upwards of 250 visible on this photo and I didn’t even get the head. How do they co-ordinate this? Who makes the decision to go at a particular time and place? What if one of them heads off and no one follows, does it get annoyed or feel like a bit of an idiot? So many things we do not know about the animal mind.
On another dull day, in all respects, the waterfowl of Hebden Bridge once again save things photographically. As I’ve said on here before, I do like mallards, they seem quite an agreeable species. The duck to the far right definitely looks smug about something.
Being 42 