A double-bill to fill out the weekend, because I saw a lot of football, and not much else. This one is taken about half an hour before kick-off at the second match of the weekend, at Rhyl FC, where the Wales Under-19 team were playing Portugal in front of quite a big crowd, at least for the size of the ground. (A seagull crashes the shot for the second day in a row.) They were to see defeat, however: Portugal won 1-0.
“Who you calling a Liver Bird? I ain’t no Liver Bird. Call me that again and I will eat your chips.”
As a location, the Lake District has featured 171 times on this blog, so about once every 28.5 days, or roughly every four weeks. But in 2024 the place appeared only three times, the lowest yearly total by some distance. Finishing the commitment to hoik myself twice around the Wainwrights has made an obvious difference. This shot is taken from no nearer than Morecambe, with a very long zoom. Will I be back more in ’25? In all honesty — probably not.
He’s just discovered running. Which means he’s discovering the pleasure of chasing things. The gull will tolerate it for now: revenge will come later, when the kid’s chips get stolen.
This cameo played out in the grounds of Carisbrooke Castle, in the centre of the Isle of Wight — worth a visit, if you want a recommendation. It was the place that Clare and I saw out much of our silver wedding anniversary: we were married on 2nd July 1999, and have made it this far, at least.
Further proof, if proof was needed (see also this shot) that the provision of fake owls throughout the country has not only failed to deter other birds, but that they may in fact encourage other avian life in attempts to befriend them. Jay the gull admires Bob’s taciturnity as they keep an eye on the pickings available from the local fishing fleet.
Welcome back to Dundee. The last time it was pictured, on day 1,401 (26/6/15), I was crossing the Tay via the rail bridge, but this is the road bridge that heads for Fife. Plus the impressive V & A Design Museum Dundee, and a seagull enjoying the very fine weather. It looks like we wil be seeing more of this place, at least if all works out — Joe has applied to come to university here, which is why we are checking it out.
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.
Glasson, out on the Lune estuary a couple of miles from Lancaster, has featured three times on the blog now and each of these has been taken in the last week of December — indicating that it’s a nice place to come and hang out when seeing out Christmas at the in-laws. Melancholy though, in late December. There was so little light today I tried cranking up the ISO setting very high to try to compensate, and shots taken during this period ended up with this grainy, blurry look which I decided was not all that bad. Like this one, the reeds look like think brushstrokes of paint, and there’s something about the boat which resembles a painting more than a photograph. That’s my excuse anyway.
For the second time on this holiday a seagull demands I do its close-ups. Could I (or it) have asked for better light? We are now on Alderney, a 15-minute flight north of Guernsey on a tiny plane on which we were three of only five passengers. Like Sark, but unlike on Guernsey, the sun shone and there is a palpable feeling of otherness, separateness, on this little isle which the bigger one didn’t really have. Two more days away to come.
Being 42 