It’s just a ladybird, off for a walk. They can fly, they just seem to prefer walking. Another shot used mainly because the focus came out right, and the shot therefore ended up as intended.
A very pleasant day today, and these caught the light perfectly. And I got them in focus, too: there’s quite a long zoom being deployed here.
This is one of those occasions where a whole new location (the 479th, in fact) gets on the blog with a shot that could be taken anywhere. These poppies are currently flowering behind one of the stands of Brickfield Rangers FC, who play on the outskirts of Wrexham in north-east Wales, a town that had previously not offered up a picture in thirteen-plus years, and may not do so again.
There has been a long period where no herons were to be seen on the weir on the Hebden Water in town, but in the last couple of weeks there has been one there every day. Presumably, the same one: but I can’t confirm whether this is one of the two that were photographed regularly a few years back. It’s probably not. Anyway, it’s nice to see one of them again: they really are the most patient of creatures.
In training for the ongoing Pigeon-Duck Conflict (depicted several times on here), Bob completes his latest bout of callisthenics with close supervision from the sergeant-majors. He’ll soon be ready for action down at the marina, where it’s rumoured there are also geese about, so he needs to work on those reaction times.
Another day when there wasn’t really a great deal to look at, but it was a sunny afternoon with good light, so in the end, something came up. I like how the air behind it seems to shimmer with the promise of a golden summer, but of course all that is in the past — today could have been the last truly sunny and warm day until March, for all we know. And let’s consider ‘post’ as having a double meaning.
While walking, as is my wont, through random parts of the country this afternoon I suddenly became aware that what looked surreally like a set of filing cabinets stuck in a field 1,200 feet above sea level was in fact home to a very, very large number of bees. This was not just a ‘hive’, but an entire bee city. Prudently, I swung round on a considerable detour — but there’s always the zoom lens option. (A note to the managers here — please, put ‘Keep Out!’ signs at both entrances to a field…)
This little new sprig, coming out from what I think is an oak tree (those do look like oak leaves), is catching the light in a figurative sense — but surely a literal one, too. I imagine that it’s exactly because that little patch of trunk achieves direct line of sight to that ball of helium 93 million miles away that the sprig has been encouraged out into the world. Life’s like that.
So, at least a few of the tomato flowers (as pictured on May 23rd) have made an effort: although don’t imagine that this fruit is very big, nor that there are very many of them. This agriculture lark is not straightforward…
In John Wyndham’s The Day of the Triffids is presented the ultimate invasive species. So hostile is it to human life that following a public health disaster the plant simply takes over. I believe some people get to live out a siege future on the Isle of Wight at the end of the novel. It ain’t happening quite so quickly with Himalayan Balsam, but nevertheless I do believe that we are in trouble. There seems to be more of it than ever, this summer.
I’m sure there are worse things to be remembered for, and less appropriate ways of memorialising a loved one. Those whom Barbara left behind are hopefully gratified to see this being properly used. (That is an actual squirrel, in case you were wondering.)
Being 42 