Mild Drizzle was forecast
Torrential downpour was what we got.
Must be Glastonbury this weekend!
Bad News for the Barn Owls I saw a few days ago. The rain I mean not Glastonbury. I don't think Owls, Barn or otherwise, are particularly interested in music.
Thursday, June 26, 2008
Wednesday, June 11, 2008
Monday, June 09, 2008
An Average Evening
Instead of a bike ride I decided to go to the Goyt. It was cooling off a bit when I eventually got there and up on the top of the hill there was a cooling breeze. I had brought my camera as the previous couple of times I had left it at home only to be confronted by Curlews almost posing to be photographed and a close encounter with a Coal Tit (no sniggering at the back, you know who you are!) Of course Sods Law meant that nothing would come within a mile of me, but I took it anyway. I'm glad I did.
The scenery was still there doing its stuff, and as I strolled down the track to "the bench at the top of the reservoir", a couple of kestrels floated along on the thermals whilst the curlews kept up a liquid cry worrying about the presence of the two birds of prey.
At the bench, I sat down and watched a solitary Great Crested Grebe do a bit of fishing, and a Heron flap nonchalantly down to the waters edge.
And then a real surprise and magic moment. A couple of red deer that had probably been keeping cool in some thick wooded undergrowth broke cover and ambled across some open land before disappearing into the trees.
I thought about following them but realised by the time I had walked around the headland (about a mile) they would have been long gone. Actually what really clinched it was the emergence of about twenty school kids singing and making alot of noise accompanied by a "responsible" adult armed with a loud and crackling walkie talkie. I explained about the deer, and he excitedly shouted out to the children at the front that there were deer about and that they should keep very quiet. The decibels went up a few notches as they all began to shout and demand to be allowed to use the walkie talkie to tell their mates (yes there were more of them) a few hundred yards behind. I beat a hasty retreat up the hill, as I suspect did the deer.
Still it had made my day, and I forgot to mention the Ravens.
The scenery was still there doing its stuff, and as I strolled down the track to "the bench at the top of the reservoir", a couple of kestrels floated along on the thermals whilst the curlews kept up a liquid cry worrying about the presence of the two birds of prey.
At the bench, I sat down and watched a solitary Great Crested Grebe do a bit of fishing, and a Heron flap nonchalantly down to the waters edge.
And then a real surprise and magic moment. A couple of red deer that had probably been keeping cool in some thick wooded undergrowth broke cover and ambled across some open land before disappearing into the trees.
I thought about following them but realised by the time I had walked around the headland (about a mile) they would have been long gone. Actually what really clinched it was the emergence of about twenty school kids singing and making alot of noise accompanied by a "responsible" adult armed with a loud and crackling walkie talkie. I explained about the deer, and he excitedly shouted out to the children at the front that there were deer about and that they should keep very quiet. The decibels went up a few notches as they all began to shout and demand to be allowed to use the walkie talkie to tell their mates (yes there were more of them) a few hundred yards behind. I beat a hasty retreat up the hill, as I suspect did the deer.
Still it had made my day, and I forgot to mention the Ravens.
Sunday Picnic
The Bridge is a modern metal affair, replacing the old stone one that was washed away in one of the winter storms a few years ago. We sit on the lumpy, hummocky ground next to it and picnic in the shimmering breathless heat. Above us, Curlews fly too and fro from feeding grounds to their nests on the hillside. They call to warn of their arrival and glide effortlessly in to land near but not on the nest. I watch through binoculars as one creeps through the undergrowth to the nest site. A pair of Kestrels brave the mid day heat to hunt. But they do not gave their hearts in it and they give up and take to gliding and soaring, I guess just because they can. Occasionally the peace and quiet is broken by walkers tramping down the hill. We sit on "our" hummock and watch them making a mess of trying to get through the boggy bit at the bottom without getting muddy. They all fail but go to great lengths to do so. We shout out occasional bits of advice and then laugh with them as the mud and water creeps up to their ankles. One group have a little white dog that just leaps in with a great muddy splash, soaking itself and its owner. Unamused the man takes the little dog to the stream and tries to wash off the mud. This is serious entertainment, even the Munch stops eating his crisps to watch. After a few minutes of struggling the dog is cleaned to the mans satisfaction, and he stands up proudly. His companions who have gathered on the bank to watch, applaud him politely and if I was being uncharitable I would say a faintly mocking way. The dog unamused,finds a muddy patch and rolls in it. They move off to continue their walk. The dog has the good grace to trot a few yards behind them. The teenagers head off to the stream to paddle and swim in the deeper pools. Mrs BW and I settle down on the rug for an afternoon nap. As I dose off it crosses my mind that it is risky to fall asleep next to a stream with the Weasel and the Munch on the loose. But I am sure it would never cross their minds..................
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