As I prepared to upload the images for this posting a large flock of jackdaws has flown noisily past the back of the house. It happens every year. Every day during the winter months in the morning the daws flock noisily from their roost past our house at a very low level, so low I am at daw-level watching them from the bedroom window. Then in the afternoon they return in the reverse direction although they fly much higher over the fields at the back of the house heading to their roost, a roost that I've never actually discovered but suspect it's about 8 miles away in the woods near Clevedon.
Sunday 26 November 2023
Monday 13 November 2023
To Plodge - Verb (intransitive) - to wade in water, esp the sea. Northeast England dialect.
Well, I found myself a long way away from the sea on this Remembrance Sunday, but I and my two companions were definitely plodging - such a great word PLODGE - a word I grew up with and a word which sounds like the very action it describes. And on this visit to Frampton Cotterell we did plodge with merry abandon.
Sunday 5 November 2023
A streak of mad spontaneity seems to grip our family, and myself in particular.
Blue tit, great tit, woodpigeon, moorhen, rook, carrion crow, magpie, robin, curlew, mallard, cormorant, ducks on the estuary miles away, tufted duck, reed bunting, stone chat, herring gull, black headed gull, little grebe, mute swan redwing and fieldfare both seen, chiffchaff, wren, cettis warbler, jay, blackbird, starling, those waders unidentified, pheasant, long-tailed tit and house sparrow.
Wednesday 18 October 2023
I've been to Arne many times, both for work and for pleasure, but not for about ten years. Mrs Wessex-Reiver had only been to Arne once before (with me) before yesterday when it was so cold we only stayed an hour but she had seen avocet for the first time on that visit. Yesterday's species she was keen to see were the sika.
After a coffee, to see if the torrential rain would relent, there was nothing for it. We ventured out. Actually to begin with it wasn't too dreadful as we walked towards the new Middlebere hide, though apart from a few great tits and a grey squirrel we didn't see another living thing. Which was perfect. It's beautiful here and in the inclement weather it felt quite wild, until vestiges of Poole loomed out from the distant murk. After a mile we reached the new hide.
Saturday 30 September 2023
I think answering that latter point is easy. As we age, loss becomes a larger part in our lives as our own mortality comes over the horizon, and trees themselves are meant to be permanent - we don't lose them - but if we do it matters.
Take the image below, the oak on the right of this hedge line is known as Julie's tree.
Monday 14 August 2023
As if Saturday's trip out to West Somerset and a wildflower field wasn't enough, at 8.30 am on Sunday I found myself driving the 8 miles or so to a friend of mine's garden in North Somerset, where, despite the rain and the wind the evening before, a moth trap had been set up the previous night.