22 Mar 2009 6:08 AM

This morning, when I awoke, the weather looked as though it was going to stay fine and I decided to take my chances and set out for a walk.  On the way, driving down narrow lanes, there were no other cars coming my way or indeed behind me, I decided to drive slower than normal, due to the lack of traffic, and took in the sights as I negotiated the narrow bends and tight corners. 

I passed an unkempt plantation of trees with gnarled and leggy trunk and branch stems; a wonderful place for breeding birds.  The lack of leaves, on the dark and weathered wood, reminded me, if ever I was going to do a night walk, that this area would be one to avoid.  In such a place, the mind could be deceived into thinking it was an area that could easily promote a horror story to form in the mind of an over excited person. 

When I arrived at the car park, it was now a beautiful morning in a cloudless sky of azure blue.  The air was still very cold and thin, for there was a cold mist, in the distance, and I could see my breath.

Once in the car park, while I organised myself, I sat for a time and watched a forestry worker shape a piece of wood with a petrol driven sharp toothed cutter.  Within no time at all, the tree stump had turned into a work of art. 

Now almost mid morning, the air was still crisp and there was a thin mist hanging over the fields.  Joggers and dog walkers were out and they seemed to be oblivious of the calling Chaffinch and Great Tits. 

A quick word with the site warden told me that an influx of migrating birds had come in or passed through the site.  Like a small and excited schoolchild, I set off to look for the incoming birds. 

I love March, for it is probably the best month of any season as winter dormant trees break into virgin buds which, at the moment, are giving a hint of a green sheen on trees that were, only a few days ago, dull and gloomy. 

Walking on, after stopping to take a few notes, I came to the side of an almost becalmed lake and, as I walked to the edge of the footpath, that was a few meters away from the lake, I became aware of a rush of birds.  Geese became very noisy, while they were on the open water, they flapped their wings, took off and their short airborn flight dropped them only a couple of feet from where I was standing.  Geese, Swans and Mallards, all expecting to be fed, came waddling up towards me.  One Canada Goose, with bright and piercing eyes, stared at me and turned its head, this way and that, as if it was an affectionate pet dog. When the bird realised that its flight had been in vein, it looked at me, as if in disgust, and reared its head before hissing at me.  The Swans, knowing that there was no food for them, left my side and waddled away to feed on the short grassland around the lake.  These same Swans, further into the season, would not allow me near to them. 

I noted that some of the Canada Geese were in full plumage but were very small and I wondered if the geese had been breeding with the farm yard geese, left on the site, a couple of years ago, by an allotment holder who became too old to carry on looking after the birds. I will have to look at this point, with more interest, later in the year.

On the far side of the lake, gulls with their constant calls, peppered the water as they flew this way and that, dived and splashed to try to attract a mate.  Pied Wagtails waddled, in the short grass, field daisies opened, in the morning sun, and I saw my first large bee of the year.  Tufted Ducks an Coot seemed to be covering every bit of the shallow water, at the side of the lake, and the Goldeneye ducks, I mentioned in an earlier blog, were still one site.

While writing a man came towards me on a four wheeled electric vehicle; he explained-although he could no longer walk-he rides round this site every day.  Electric buggies, on this site, are free to use as long as you book them in advance and have proof of identification with you when you want to use them. 

At the side of the lake, when the man had gone, I walked alongside last year's  Phragmites reeds, the reed with the feather like substance that stays with the plant all winter, and had good views of a male Reed Bunting. 

Further round the lake, passing large boulders, put in the water by the wardens to prevent strong water 'lappage'-to prevent the embankment from breaking up and ending up in the water-a Moorhen took to flight and this drew my attention to something moving a little further on in the rocks.  Slowly, and as quiet as I could, I moved further up the embankment area, and I was rewarded by my first migrant sighting of the year.  The birds I was looking at were wheatears.  I tried to take a photo of my sighting but, for I did not want to frighten the birds off the site, I decided not to get too close and left them in piece. 

While I was trying to get closer to the birds, I became aware of a man, about my age, getting off his bicycle and positioning himself to sit on a nearby wooden bench.  When I had finished taking my notes, I looked at the man and realised he and I used to be in class together at school.

We sat, for a long time, laughing and joking about by gone days, the teachers we had and some of the class mates we sat with.  Some of the memories were good and some were not so good but the thing that astounded me was my school friend could remember many of the names of the young people that were in our class; I had forgotten their names a long time ago.

I left me friend, as he precariously tried to set off on a bike he had purchased to help get him fit and loose weight. 

My friend, like me, has taken early retirement and he was pleased to finish work for he has been, from the age of fifteen, been an apprentice trained plasterer.  Although a muscular man, his work was very physically demanding and he was finding it harder and harder to perform the tasks that he had, all those years ago, been trained to do. 

He no longer does physical work and because he has no way of burning off calories, that are turning into fat, he cannot get used to the idea that his body no longer craves for the energy it used to when he was working hard.  He is still eating as much as he did when he finished work.  After only twelve months of being out of work, he became so fat he decided to seek medical help.  His Dr. said he should try to exercise more hence the cycle he is now trying, and sometimes failing, to ride.

My friend, an hard working and honest man, went on to tell me he has two daughters; one is an under manager and the other has gained a PHD.

I left my friend, as he slowly rode off on the footpath I had just walked, and smiled at some of the memories he had left me with.  While I was thinking of my old school days, I heard a Skylark singing and the bird song brought my mind back to what I was doing. 

Moving on and rounding a corner of the lake, I noticed that a small beach had formed, from the pounding of the waves, in an area I now call 'windy corner.'  Six Pied Wagtails flew up from the beach and, when I closed my eyes and listened to the waves lapping up on the shingle, I imagined myself being at the seaside.     

Once away from the water's edge, back in a wooded area, Wrens were calling and there were more Skylarks to be heard.  Chaffinch and Bullfinch were calling but I was also able to here my second migratory bird calling for a Chiffchaff was making the most wondrous 'Chiff Chaff' sound.  When I here this call, I know spring is in the air! 

After about half an hour's walk, I came to a bird watching hide.  Outside the hide, Long Tailed Tits were sitting in a shrub close to where I was walking. 

Once in the hide, I had to myself, I noted that there were lots of 'mole hills'and I had never seen any on this site before. 

In the surrounding fields, there were lots of Canada Geese and hundreds of Widgeon.

On the islands, at the side of the lake, there were many Coot, noisy Lapwings, Gadwall ducks, Shoveler ducks and there were two or three nesting Oystercatchers.

Another bird watcher came into the hide and, at this point, Black Headed Gulls were making so much noise I could not here what the man said to me when he asked me a bird watching question. 

I moved on to another area, where I could here frogs croaking, but I could not see any frog spawn although the warden said there was lots of the spawn on site.

I had been on this site for about five hours and, because the sun had shone so kindly, all of that time, some of the shrubs, with tight leaf buds, I had passed a few hours ago, the leaves were now starting to open.

On passing the site's reception area, in complete contrast to when I came onto the site, lots of people were sitting outside of the cafe and family parties were out with young children. 

From dawn to dusk, although it became very cold after dark, the sun shone brilliantly. 

Not only do the birds seem to be more chirpy, in the lovely weather, I too felt good inside and pleased with the wonderful walk I had just had. 

I hope you enjoy reading about my walk as much as I have enjoyed writing about it.

By for now,

John.                                           

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17 Mar 2009 6:34 AM

My first walk for weeks.

Yesterday, Friday and after waiting for the children to go back to school, I drove my wife to an area, in the country, where the walk is easy underfoot.  In truth, for the ground has been soaked, we chose a walk that had been treated to man's hard labour (A path had been laid by a workforce.)

To my surprise, the car park was almost full of people, all of the same view as me-wishing to 'take the air'-and we found it difficult to find somewhere to park.  Never the less, when we did get underway, the walk was well worth the effort.

There was a very strong wind but the sun was out and due to being dressed for the cold weather, we found it easy to take on the elements. 

My wife, eager to get underway, was out of the car and had started to walk off before I had had the chance to take out my binoculars and although I felt I aught to try and catch up to her, I paused, for a moment to survey the scene. 

In front of me was a large field that housed sheep and, almost in front of me close to the car park causeway, were two young lambs. 

I love to be 'out and about' at this time of year for everything is fresh and new.

Although I looked at the lambs for a few minutes, before my conscience kicked in to move on and catch up with my wife, they did not bother to move and simply eyed me as if I had a right to be looking at them.

The air, as the strong wind blew 'dried out' grass stalks around, was clear and I took in several deep breaths as I walked towards where I knew my wife would be standing, out of the wind.

On our left, walking on a flat surface that had a long curve to the left, all the mature Blackthorn bushes had been hacked back so that new growth, when it comes, would not hang over the footpath and catch the clothing of unsuspecting walkers. 

When a machine comes and hacks away at the old wood growth, it looks as though the machine has done so much damage that the shrub will never recover but, each year, the shrubs seem to get thicker and stronger for the cuts. 

To our right, Hazel Catkins and Pussy Willows were out and I noted that the site wardens had already been out, with the grass cutters, before Wheatears came to pay us a visit from foreign lands.

Eventually, we came towards a large lake and the wave power, because of the high winds, made it difficult to see any of the birds that were sitting on the open water. 

After about half an hour of walking, we came to a section of the lakeside where it was impossible to walk in a straight line.  As we followed the curvature of the land, now with the strong wind on our backs, our hoods lifted and covered us as if they had been pulled over our heads by an invisible hand. 

Here, now with the sun on our backs, I lifted the binoculars and saw male and female Goldeneye ducks.  These ducks, soon to pair up, will make a nest in a hole of a tree but I fear they will not nest at the site they were now at as the trees, on this nature reserve, are not, in my view, mature enough to meet the Goldeneye's needs.  To my surprise, from a bird watching point of view, there was little to see. 

There were the now established Cormorants, a few Black Headed Gulls, 'rafts' of one noted whistling Widgeon, Coot, Moorhens and a crazed Kestrel that was trying to fly, as if going through a cyclone, across the lake.  My guess is that the Kestrel was one of last year's brood for, as is often the case with juvenile birds, they have to learn, much in the same way as we do-by trial and error-how to cope in all weather conditions.

When I see juvenile Kestrels, trying to cope in this way-or any other young birds-it reminds me of the time when I first started bird watching, in my late twenties, now almost 40 years ago. 

I was out birding, in freezing conditions and it was so cold that the lake, I was close to, had almost frozen over.  In one patch of the lake, the water had not frozen and because the wind was getting under the ice, the blanket of ice lifted and fell making a 'whap---ping' sound as it fell back onto the water.   

I had on more layers than an onion, as they say, for I had ridden to the site on a motorcycle, and I was as warm as toast in the ice-cold conditions. 

I had been on site for some time when I noticed another birdwatcher, about my age, who we later became great friends, wearing only a one buttoned coat.  He later told me, even though he could not control his shivering chin, that he did not feel the cold.

Earlier, I had seen an been able to walk up to a young Kestrel, almost touching it, and by the look of the bird, for it looked as though it was in desperate need of something to eat, my guess is that it would not have lasted the night out. 

When my new friend and I had seen the Kestrel trying to make several kills and failing miserably, we hatched a plan to catch the bird-something I do not recommend and something that I have never done since-but the bird was so near to dying that it simply gave in to us. 

We caught and took the bird to a friend, who fed it on raw liver and mice, that he caught for the Kestrel, then, when he thought the bird was ready, he released the meat eating flyer  back into the wild.

My wife and I, now half way into our walk, reached an area that had not been getting the sun and the path was awash with slippery mud.  My ribs and shoulder being the way that they were, I dare not risk going any further and we turned to go back.

Now coming towards us, there were lots of people setting out on their walks and I was surprised to note that none of them wanted to 'pass the time of day' with us and engage in any form of salutations. 

Walking back, to where we had left the car, we noticed that the Dog Rose shrub was turning from red, yellow and now to green.  A Skylark was singing, Great Tits were calling and we were at peace with ourselves after stretching our legs on the lovely walk.

While we were walking round the lake, I noticed that there was a change in the weather and, as is often said, I could smell that rain was coming our way over the tops of distant hills.

'Smell the rain!' I here you say, what is this man on about!

For years now, when I have been out and about on my many walks, I have noticed, when it was going to rain, that there was a pressure change in the air and the pressure was often followed by an earthy smell.  Today was no exception and we had not been home long when the 'heavens opened' and down came the rain.

To my surprise, the rain did not last long and, as if turned off by a tap, there was no more rain and, after about half an hour, the soil dried out and it became so pleasant that I was soon outdoors pottering around in the garden.

P.S.

In computer terms, can anybody tell me what a 'Wink' is?  I have pressed the 'Wink' button, to an Internet friend, but I am unsure what I have done it for or what the facility if for? 

By for now,

John.                   

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15 Mar 2009 10:10 PM

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14 Mar 2009 6:11 AM

I am sorry for the typing error, that should have said 'faces' and well spotted to the kind blog reader that brought the error to my attention.  (No names no pack drill,) as they say.

When the error was pointed out to me, and I have decided to leave it in for all to check and tell me about it, I could not stop laughing, although I was embarrassed by my oversight. 

Having a sense of humour, today at least, has proven to be a boon to me and for my wife for, 'on the spur of the moment,' we decided to see if we could afford to trade our two-year-old car in for a new one.

I have to say that cars have never excited me for, when I was a young man, living on the West coast of England, I used to do new body work on a sports car known as a TVR. 

The man that designed the car, a quiet sort of a man, was called Trevor and he took the letters t,v and r out of his name to create the name of the now very well known vehicle.

I digress, like 'lemons,' and I use the word loosely for I know it has another meaning in America, my wife and I waited, patiently, for the car sales man to concoct a figure for my very low mileage car, a car we purchased off the same company nearly two years ago. 

We waited and were on the point of getting up to leave the sales room, to go, when the we saw the 'pouted' chest of our rep, with an enigmatic smile on his face, coming towards us.  He sat, presented his figures and we stood up and left leaving him with an open mouth expression that looked more like an object for catching flies.

Later, for we were in and out of the house all day, the phone kept ringing and because we had a rough idea of what the rep would say, from the car company that we had contacted earlier, we could not be bothered to answer his traceable phone number.

My wife, who always sees these things in 'black and white' came up with the answer to all the car salesmen's problems.

"Why can we not purchase a new car like we can purchase a new washing machine?  We go into the shop, pick out the washing machine we want and then pay for it." She said.

Why not indeed?

Of course, I am 'spoilt' for, due to circumstances beyond my control, I hired all my vehicles until I was about 50 years of age; give me a motorcycle anytime.  (I rode motorcycles for about 20 years, day in, and day out in all weathers.)  Well, that was when I was younger and did not feel the cold as I do now. 

I say spoilt for my wife and I purchased our first car, a second hand Ford Fiesta LX, from a company called Daewoo-I think that is how it was spelt!  There was an occasion when I felt the need to take the second hand car back for their service engineers to have a look at.  I think it was a suspension arm that was faulty!  Not only did they repair the car for me, free of charge, they also found another fault and cured that for me too.  When the car was due to be exchanged, I was going to purchase another vehicle from them but the company  moved to a large city, which I found it impossible to get to, and the rest is history.

Our humour, 'when the chips were down,' was the only thing that kept our marriage together.  The things that have happened to us, usually through no fault of our own, have only been kept at 'arm's length' due to me being able to write them down, on a daily basis.  In fact, I have kept the ritual of writing, mostly writing 200 words a day- sometimes much more-since 1976.  I tried writing, in my blog, about the things that have gone on, over about 30 years, but, in many cases, the pain was too difficult to re live.  I can now tell you all, thankfully, that my wife and I have resolved many of the issues, caused by external in law intervention, and we have more freedom now than at any other time in our lives.

I suppose, once we get to a certain age, we all have our own stories to tell.

I will stop there but, if there is anything you want to know please ask, I can only say no.

By for now,

John. 


 

 

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12 Mar 2009 3:14 AM

Tuesday began as usual and I thought it was going to be one of those days when it would be 'all go' but also a day when I was unable to achieve anything worth while; how wrong of me to think that way.

My first task, when I pulled round slowly-as is usual with me-was to drive to my morning art class.  I knew that I would have to leave early so I decided to be there in good time so that I could, if it was needed, catch up to all the other adult students that had been doing a project while I had been unable to attend the class due to waiting for my broken bones to heal.

To my surprise, when I arrived at the art venue, all the desks had been put out in rows instead of the usual horseshoe pattern.  On this occasion, the desks had been moved so that it was easier to accommodate the growing number of adult students.  I later learned that the classroom was now full to capacity.

Our project was to design a Poster and use, for our work, an advertisement poster and mine was of the 60's.  Unlike some of the adults, I sailed straight into the work and had no problems, apart from leaving early, in getting a long way through the task. 

After leaving class early, my journey home turned out to be easy and because a sandwich was ready for me, when I entered my home, I was able to relax, for half an hour, before setting out to my next venue.

My afternoon class was joining a singers'group and, unlike last week, I seemed to be able to slot straight into what was asked of me.

The usual exercises came, faecal contortions, and the vocal scales and then we went into learning more of our parts to sing.  Last week, my music had not arrived, but because my song sheets were here for me, on the second week, I could pay my £8.00 and have my own work sheets to look at. 

I have not been taught to read music but, for some reason, I was starting to follow the song sheets we were now working from. 

The singers, now 41 one of us, are a mixed bunch comprising of people that had lots of singing experience to people with very little singing practice. 

We rehearsed and rehearsed until our 'choirmaster' was reasonably satisfied with our progress and then we were all able to do a complete run through of You Will Never Walk Alone, from the top. 

The female Sopranos, with their high notes, came in first and a line or two into the song came the Contraltos, with mid range note.  It sounded fantastic.

While the women were singing, the male Tenors, singing the high notes, followed the female singers and then my two friends and I, chasing the Bass notes, followed on after the Tenors. 

When all four groups were singing in unison, the hall we were singing in filled up with the most wonderful music and, at one point, I was so overcome-with emotion-that I welled up inside and tears formed in my eyes.  The experience was one that I would not have wanted to miss.

Up until this point, for the choristers have been singing together for three weeks before I was able to join them, the 'choirmaster' had only made an endorsement to thank the singers for their hard work. 

On this occasion, when I was full of emotion, our leader paused, when we  wound up the song, and said nothing for a few seconds.  He looked round all the singers and, as you do when you are trying hard, we expected the worst.

But then he spoke to us all!

"That was wonderful and do you know what, I think we should consider having our first public sing."

Everybody in the room was shocked by what he had to tell us.

I have to tell you, at this point, I am a very nervous type of parson but, when the 'choirmaster' had spoken to us, there were no pangs of fear and I actually looked forward to be able to sing in front of a crowd of people.  As long as I do not have to sing lead, I think I will be all right. 

By for now,

John.         

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