The annual outcrop of Canada goslings is usually good for a pic, and so it proves again in 2023. This was one of a family of four — six if you count the watchful parents — who at the moment seem to have set up home on the canalside marina.
This little creature is clearly used to humans, as it flew over and perched as close to me as any ‘wild’ bird has in recent times, demanding that I do its close-ups. The light wasn’t quite right — it would be nicer if its eye wasn’t in shadow — but I did my best to oblige.
Saying this is taken at Annandale Water is correct, but don’t imagine some picturesque Scottish glen. The Water does exist but is a mere puddle, and in fact the placename refers to the services on the M74. My morning was spent driving home, with this being taken during the only break in the 6-hour trek.
I have developed some druidic powers. I can, fairly reliably, summon a robin. It’s quite easy actually — simply go up to the garden, dig over part of it, and wait five minutes. One will usually appear to check over the bounty that has been revealed. This one was quite unperturbed by the presence of both myself and Clare, and has a look on his face that suggests he thinks we should be doing more digging — I reckon robins are evolving to use humans as manual labour, in fact. Perhaps they will be our overlords in a few dozen millennia,
I’m fairly certain these are juvenile common waxbills (Estrilda astrild), a member of the finch family. They don’t yet have the bright red bill that gives the species its name (as it looks like it has been dipped in sealing wax) but everything else about them matches the description, particularly the red stripe through the eye. The one on the lower branch flew off the instant I pressed the shutter, and is fluffing himself up ready to make the jump. Taken on my walk to the summit of the island, Diana’s Peak — more photos from the day can be seen on my other blog.
There is just such a look of contentment on the face of this sheep, as it has a rest from its communal troughing. I guess with all those fleeces on each side it must be pretty warm and stuffy down there; no wonder they were all taking breathers now and again.
It is known that birds are relatively intelligent creatures for their size, so as I crawl through this null time before Christmas, trying not to think about work, questions come to mind, such as — do they deliberately crap on people’s heads, or is it all an accident? This old metalwork crosses over a street in Hebden as it links two buildings, and whatever it once was, it is now prime pigeon perch; and always worth a look upwards, before any attempt to pass beneath it.
Beside the boating lake in Southport is clearly the place to be if you are a swan concerned about your appearance. These four were just a few of the many there who all seemed to be engaged in some kind of preening and cleaning activity, in or out of the water. But as someone with a lot of hair themselves, I know that it is tricky to keep one’s plumage tidy. It’s nice that they seem to do it as a social thing, like elderly ladies gathering in a salon.
I’m not confident enough to start picking and frying random fungi that I come across along the way, though I know some who will do so. These look tasty enough to me though. As pictured in the garden of the B & B, but a less gratuitous shot than yesterday evening’s.
Certainly a red kite, a species of bird that was close to becoming extinct in the UK some decades ago, but thanks to a number of programmes of reintroduction, now making a fine recovery. I caught a number of these on camera in Wales some years ago, but those were coming to an organised feeding station. This one was as wild as they come, soaring on the thermals above a road in Lincolnshire. It turned into the sunlight just as I had it in the sights.
Last day in Oxford on this trip. While having a cup of tea outside the museum (in the same place depicted on Tuesday), in more pleasant sunshine, my eye was caught by the profuse fruit on this horse chestnut tree. In my youth all these would have been harvested for the playing of conkers, but apparently Health & Safety has done for that tradition, at least officially. Mind you, all of these were some distance up in the air, so I guess they will come down in their own time.
