22 Jun 2009 4:39 AM

On my latest walk, after leaving the car safe, I looked out over the fields and noted that the lambs, born only a few weeks ago, were now independent of their parents and eating on their own. They seemed to be feeding on a diet of lush grass and clover.  How quickly they grow and change.

The weather, although bright at first, was changing from one minute to the next.  One minute I felt the need to have my raincoat on and the next I felt the need to take it off. 

I walked onto a well-worn footpath and, to one side; the site wardens had cut one strip width into a field full of 'Field Buttercups' which had spread like a thick yellow blanket.  Not only was the field a beautiful sight it was a haven for wildlife and butterflies.

Trees, now if full leaf, swayed and their branches were tossed around, in strong swirling winds.  Willow Warblers were calling on my left and my right, from thick Hawthorns that had been chopped back, by the wardens, before the leaves formed. Today, the impenetrable barbs, of the hawthorns, were impossible to look into and I wondered how many nest were escaping my keen eye.

Swifts and Swallows darted around on the wind and a Skylark rose from the ground, to climb high into the sky and sing its continuance song.  I may have said it before but it always amazes me why this bird's song can keep going all the time; how does the bird find time to draw in breath? 

Pink Dog Roses, with their beautiful and distinct scent, were already falling, in heaps, to the ground.  Oystercatchers called out their one note 'pink' sound and 2 to 300 Canada Geese grazed in a field that was set aside for them. 

Now, as I walked into an area with more blustery winds, Swifts and Swallows-as they tried to catch food on the wing-had lost their aerial height and were almost, as they flew passed me, down to water wave level as they skimmed over the surface of the lake. 

In a long tree lined area, Goldfinch kept flying off in front of me and then resting until I was close to them.  It looked as if they were playing a game with me so that I could not get too close. 

At the side of the footpath I was on, grass stems were as tall as they would be in an unkempt garden.  Some Oxeye Daisies were hidden away, in small clumps, in areas of the grass where sunlight could get through. 

In among the grasses, in the middle of a field, was a pink single stemmed flower I had never seen before.  Earlier, before setting out on my walk, I toyed with the idea of not taking my camera with me but I was pleased that I had. 

I was quick to take a few photos, of the pink flower, for there was a party of schoolchildren getting ever closer to where I was in the open field.  I did not want it to look as though I was setting a bad example to them for the field I had crossed, to get to the flower, was not usually used by people on foot. 

While I was taking the photos, strong winds whipped up and the dry conditions blew dust around.  Although the dust did not seem to interfere with my photography, it did get to the back of my throat and I soon began to cough and sneeze.

When I set off to walk again, I noted that there was a change in the wind for it was now blowing off the land and turning the tree's leaves underside up.  Old 'countrymen' saw this as being a sure sign that rain was on its way.  Not wanting to get caught out in any rain squalls, I made my way to an old wooden hide. 

Inside the hide, looking out over a narrow strip of field-through wooden slits provided as looking holes-I could see an embankment that was totally covered with Oxeye Daisies; it was a magnificent sight. 

To one side of the hide, close to the water's edge, a Swan, while its mate preened and bathed in shallow water, stood, like a sentinel, over 5 fluffy white swan chicks.  Black Headed Gulls, Pied Wagtails and Canada Geese surrounded the cygnets but the parent swan kept them all at 'arms length.' I suppose, if I was being factual, I should have said that the swan was keeping all the other birds at 'wing's length' but I think you will know what I mean.

Noise, from the Black Headed Gulls, was very high but this did not seem to disturb nesting for there were several gull chicks to be seen.  In one part of the reserve, where the water levels were low, I though I saw a pair of abandoned Moorhen chicks but the parent bird, I later found out, was behind a clump of grass and went back to the chicks at the first sign of any other bird getting near to them. 

Wooden rafts, anchored out in the water to encourage Terns to breed, had been completely taken over by a colony of Black Headed Gulls.  Terns could be heard and I did see one of these wonderful birds, but I do not know where they had managed to-if indeed they had-bread.

Sitting in the hide, listening to several birds calling, was tranquil but it was soon shattered by the sound of several young and stratified self-seeding trees rubbing against the side of the wooden hide.  To any of you who have not heard such sounds before, the noise can be deafening and also frightening for it sounds as though the branches could break through the wooden hide at any moment.  Experience told me that this was not going to happen.  If it had been dusk, the noise would have made the perfect backdrop for any horror movie.

When I left the hide, to walk back to the car park area, I noticed the school party, I had heard when taking the photo of the Orchid, were now in a field, not usually used by the public.  Seeing them, in areas that were usually restricted to the public, made my conscience a little easier after walking across the field when I was looking at the flower I wanted to photograph. 

While I was standing, on a footpath, making a few notes, the school children, and the supervisors, came past me and I was very surprised by how well behaved and quiet they all were.

Twenty years ago, several of the children would have asked me what I was doing but, I am pleased to say, they are now all 'streetwise.'

When the children, and the teachers, had passed me, Sedge Warblers and Reed Buntings began to call but their calls were soon drowned out by the strong swirling winds.

While I was walking back to the car park, much to my amusement and just at the side of the footpath I was on, I notice another Fragrant Orchid.  On my outward walk, I simply passed the flower not knowing what it was. It is often the case that, once I have identified something I begin to see it all the time.


By fior now,

John.

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22 Jun 2009 1:36 AM

Last weekend, my wife and I went away for a weekend break to Bridlington on the East Coast of England.  So what, you might say, well, this was to be our first holiday, on our own, since our son was born 38 years ago.  We knew it would be a strange feeling going on our own but, as it turned out, we knew that we were only a mobile phone call away, if we needed to know if all was right at home, so there was nothing to worry about or even think about. 

We booked a caravan, on a site that is run by a large leisure company but I have to say that we went with trepidation for, after the last three years of bad weather holidays in a caravan, we did not want to go on the weekend away

The night before we were to go away, we checked, as usual, the weather forecast and it was not good so we packed extra warm clothing and decided, if the weather became too cold, that we were going to go home.

When we awoke on Friday morning, the day we were to set off on our car journey, the weather was poor and it was cold too.

We could not enter the caravan until 3 in the afternoon so we did not need to set off until after lunch. 

As the day wore on, the weather became better but dark clouds loomed.  No matter, for the Brits have to look at the weather as if it is not going to mar our joy, we set off and the further away from home we were, the better the weather became.  By the time we reached the caravan, there was a cloudless blue sky.

That evening, until about 10 p.m., I was able to sit on the cliff tops, in a thin flimsy jumper, watching the waves come in and smelling the dry salty air until it became too cold to sit any longer. By the time I reached the caravan, a walk of about ten minutes, it was starting to go dark.

While I was sitting, enjoying the tranquillity of the scene, I caught sight of  Puffins and Razorbills that darted in and out of the white faced cave area we could look down on.

I was looking down on North Landings where a lifeboat used to be launched until only a few years ago. 

Getting down to the beach, when we were younger, was no problem at all in fact, on the uphill climb out of the bay, I used to mount the steps two at a time and only had to pause for breath before moving on to run up the steep cliff. 

Now we are older, getting down to the beautiful cove area, with clear water that allows the viewer to see to the bottom of the sea and on a pure white shingled beach, is now an impossibility for my wife and I too would find it to be a struggle.   

The van was up to the usual high standard, this particular caravan company boast but, during the first night it was very cold in our sleeping bags that were good up to minus 5. 

During the night, we awoke several times to the sound of rain beating down hard on the tin roof liner of the caravan.  From time to time, as I pulled my hooded sleeping bag further over my head and face, I feared that the morning would prove to be so bad we would be packing our bags to go home.

Saturday morning, to my surprise, came with a bang of radiant sunshine that awoke us earlier than expected but it was still cold in the caravan until we were able to use the internal heat source.

We made the most of the good weather and, as soon as we could, we were off to check out the harbour where sea fishermen were active either setting out to sea or preparing their boats for the next sea voyage. 

The waves, as we walked to the water's edge, in the harbour, gently lapped the surface areas between the water and the stone floored harbour as it licked its way back and forth in gentle movements and hardly made a sound.

We spent some time in the harbour, watching the comings and goings of the water boats.  Some were tied together, going out into the harbour, in groups of four.  This allowed the fishermen to stride from one boat to the next and the way they were moored meant that the boats did not take up much room.  There were boats of all shapes and sizes, some looked new and others looked like old rust buckets which brought an atmosphere to the sights we were looking at. 

I took time out to picture, in my mind's eye, how I might draw and paint the boats if I had had more time. 

Unfortunately, before we had had 'time to draw breath' it was time to go back to the caravan to put energy into our mouths for the fresh air and the early start made us feel very hungry. 

The rest of our day was spent relaxing, in the caravan, and enjoying strolls up and down the cliff tops.

That evening, when in bed, it was so hot the sleeping bags were unfastened but, strangely, we were able to get a good night's sleep.

The following day, Sunday, started off absolutely beautiful.  There was no breeze, the sky was cloudless and the temperatures were perfect for a walk on the beach.

Usually, when we go on holiday, my wife likes to dip here toes in the sea while I sit with the towels and any clothing that we carry to keep us warm.

Today, under a new road scheme, we decided to drive to Scarborough; now with only a drive time of about 20 minutes and, would you believe, we were able to get the last parking space in the multi-storey car park.

I hate these indoor car parks for I always feel trapped and want to get out as quickly as possible but, on this occasion, we did not have any problems with other drivers and we were parked  and out in no time at all.

Once out of the car park, after walking through an organised shopping area, we made a â'bee line' for the beach and, at about 10 a.m. both my wife and I were paddling in water that was surprisingly warm for the time of year.

We stayed in the water, wading, like children, for a long time and the water, which splashed back onto our clothes, when the tide came in and went out, dried as quickly as it wet us. 

When we had had enough wading, after drying our toes to get the sand out, an old friend came past us and we were able to exchange comments that may well have been lost if we were speaking in our own village.

Everything was perfect, the best holiday weather we had had in many years and the light, as it flickered on the water's surface and on the beach, was perfect for someone who had bothered to take their paints with them.

While I looked out over the water, at the speed boats and other water craft. I took deep breaths and filled my lungs with the smell of drying seaweed, a smell I have loved since being a small child.  This, I thought to myself, must be the least stressful holiday we have ever had. 

In the evening, we were walking in an area that had been set aside to make a nature reserve and the winding path, that lead us through woodland, ended up on the cliff tops.  Again, as we sat on a bench over looking the sea, there were no clouds to be seen and the only sounds we heard were the gentle lapping of the sea and the one noted call of sea gulls 

We sat, for a while, drinking in those golden moments, before walking back through the woodlands where Skylarks took to the air and sang their beautiful song.

On our way off the site, to our surprise, we noticed someone coming towards us, with two dogs.  Nothing unusual here you might think.  Well, when we had a better view, we could see that the lady dog walker was one of the young women who visited our next door neighbour.  The young woman was one of our neighbour's daughters.

It transpired that this young woman was living on the outskirts of Bridlington and used the nature reserve as a dog walking area, most nights.  We chatted, for some time, and, before it became dark, walked back to the car then made our way back to the van.

That evening, before going to bed, our batteries were, for the time being, fully charged and we were now ready to face going home with only wonderful memories to take with us.

Monday morning, when we had to vacate the caravan for 10, a.m.. came too quickly but, on our way home, traffic was very light and we made quick time, at an gentle cruising speed,.  All the way home, the weather was kind to us and, would you believe, as we stepped out of the car on our drive, it started to rain.  How lucky we were.


Although we missed not having our son with us, for he was on exam duties, our thoughts, from time to time, were with him thinking of how much he  would have loved to be in the lovely warm air and sea.


By for now,

John.   

   

   

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12 Jun 2009 1:26 AM

When we moved into our new home, about four years ago now, we decided to make the garden as beautiful as we could in the hope of attracting as many birds and animals as possible. 

It was my son's intention, when he planned the garden, to make it look, from the outside, just like any other garden but, on the inside looking out, he wanted the eye to drift forward, to the planted area of the garden and onwards to the tree lined park. 

To achieve this, all plants and shrubs have been planted at the far end of the back garden, close to a wooden fence that separates our garden from a public park.  We have altered the direction the soil was in, to an angle, and the new angle makes it difficult, for anybody walking past the fence, to see what is planted in the garden.  Nosey people would have to stand on tiptoe to be able to see anything at all.

As well as the planting that we have undertaken, there were also lots of other plants in the garden for the previous occupant of the house, although the garden had gone to ruin when we took it on, was a plants person.

This year, as we continue to make more and more light in the garden, a Japanese Rose has blessed us with wonderful tight packed yellow flowers.  Las year, the plant grew but it did not produce any flowers.

I am pleased to say that Song Thrushes are now coming to the garden to break and open the snails' shells. 

One day, while my wife and I were looking out over the garden, a Collard Dove flew at the window.  It must have thought that it had seen a rival and gone for it.  The bird hit the window so hard that it left an imprint on the glass and, when the imprint had weathered a little, it looked as though it was the size and shape of a fairy. 

I took a few photos, angled my shots carefully, and 'lo and behold,' the fairy looking object looked as though it was sitting on our washing line.  Cropping some of the photo, on the computer, produced startling results but I have, for some reason, been unable to upload it to my blog. 

By for now,

JOhn.

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30 May 2009 11:44 PM

This morning, after awakening later than normal, I put my head through the bedroom curtains to see what the weather was doing and, to my surprise, it was a beautiful day so I made a conscious decision, as soon as I could, to go out for a walk.

It was 11 a.m. when I reached the site of my choice and it was already 23 c or about 74f. When I stepped out of the car, looking up at an almost cloud free azure sky, there seemed to be a peacefulness in the air that was difficult to describe. 

The fields, in front of me, with lush green short grass, were occupied by sheep and lambs.  On this occasion, although I usually see it, there was no 'herding'  instinct for the lambs had now distanced themselves from the adult sheep that were grazing in twos and threes in the centre and ends of the large field.

A quick scan, over the fields, with my binoculars, found a lone Oystercatcher.

Behind me, as I sat and relaxed on an old wooden bench, I could here the one note call of the Great Spotted Woodpecker. It was a privilege to here the bird for I had only managed to learn this call today, from the Woodpecker that keeps visiting my garden. 

Along with the single note of the Woodpecker, Chaffinch seemed to be calling none stop.   

The peace and tranquillity, while sitting on the bench that was in the centre of the car park, was soon shattered by a sudden upsurge of banging car doors from vehicular movement as cars began to leave the car park. 

I decided to move on and made my way to the nearest lake.  Today, there were few midges to bite me so I was able to get close to the water's edge.  Here, it was a few degrees cooler and I took full advantage of the cool air coming from the water's edge by lingering for a while.   

By now, it was about Noon and I was surprised to see that there was still lots of 'morning dew' in the different grasses.  In 'sun traps,' the grasses were drying out and the smell, from the grass, reminded my of Seaweed that was drying out after being stranded by a turning tide. 

Moving away from the lake, now with my summer Fleece coat tied round my waste.  I decided to walk in the shadows of an avenue of trees that were growing at either side of a lane I was to  walk down; here, it was much cooler.  Thousands of seeds, from Dandelion stalks, gently floated on the wind free humid air and, through breaks, in the tree lines, the sun broke through and butterflies flitted from one nettle to the next.

Chiffchaffs, which started to sing at 4 a.m., seemed to be everywhere. 

Mixed in with the trees, there were shrubs and several slow growing Hollies trying to find a strong hold.

Mud, thrown up from a tractor, which had driven over a dry surface, lay in front of me and, as I tried to negotiate my way through in comfortable shoes I  only 'Spit and Polished' yesterday, the mud began to stick to the bottom of the shoes. 

The sound of Willow Warblers came to my ears making me forget the head ache I had picked up from the smell of the ripe and yellow 'Rape Seed' that was in fields all round me.  This kind of seed grass, when it is in its yellow canopy, is a beautiful sight but does little to free my tightening nasal passages. 

In shaded areas of the lane, I was going down, the white flowering Cow Parsley, we called, 'Mother Die' when we were children, lined the lane. 

Today, for some reason, there were lots of young lady dog walkers to be seen and several of them-in clothes designed to give maximum tanning space-felt the need to stop and chat.  One of these ladies, in a matter of minutes, told me her daughter's life story, how many grand children she had, what her husband did for a living and the locality she lived in.  Forty yers on, from the time I began to go out walking in the country, it still surprises me how friendly people become when the weather turns sunny warm.   

I moved on to an area where there were a few old mature 'native trees' and I came upon a tree which had one of its branches removed.  The tree, after losing one of its arms, did not repair itself and where the branch was once attached to the tree, a hole appeared.  Just as I came close enough to be able to see into the tree's hole, with the aid of my binoculars, a Chaffinch came out of the hole but I could not see a nest.

While writing a few notes, for my blog, I heard three articulate men talking.  Initially, I was drawn to their voice patterns from one of their party who was a Scotsman.  I love dialectal speech, but, in this case, my ears tuned into their conversation for their joviality, open mindedness and their ability to listen to the other man's point of view. 

Usually, I am the one to speak to others but, in this case, I did not get the chance for the men were keen to know what I was doing and before I knew it, I had been accepted into their group and the four of us were soon passing banter as if we were old friends

I could have stayed with the men all day for not only were they interesting to listen to, they had 'drunk from the fountain of life' and learned many things I could have never know about. 

Having said that, the past, they referred to, was only a vehicle of life's highs and lows and today began a new chapter in their lives and tomorrow was another exciting time to come. 

Their new learning curb, now that the work related time in their lives was out of their way, had moved in directions for pleasure and quality of life.  They were men of 'my own hear' and I love to be in the company of such people.

Almost dragging myself away from the men's good company, for they were all characters in their own way, I moved on to an overgrown area that lead to a wide expanse of fields and woodland.  I stood, on a high part of the area, and reflected on the beauty in front of me.  The farmer's crop was tall and strong and the tree line, I could still see through a month ago, was now packed with foliage, so thick, one tree seemed to blend into the whole wooded area. 

Before turning to go back to the area the car was in, I drank in the smells and scents that were wafting, on the breeze, in my direction.  The brain encoding, as I closed my eyes and took in a deep breath, was so stimulating that I could have been forgiven for thinking that it was the first time I had benefitted from the wonderful happening. 

It had been my intensions to walk into a wood, where it was much cooler, but time was now against me so I 'turned on my heels' to go back.

My walk back to the car park, now slow to conserve my cool body temperature, for I was not carrying fluids, was completely different to when I came onto the site. 

My return journey was one of feeling the need to keep stepping onto the grass verge, of the lane I was on, to avoid lots of mature cyclists that were all 'decked out' in the latest 'kit.' 

How different things were, in my cycling days, when I used to cycle across the fields, in everyday clothing, with only string round the bottom of my trousers to prevent the material getting caught in the cycle chain. 

The look of the modern cyclist was not an issue for me for no matter who they were or what kind of journey they were making, they were enjoying the countryside, in their own way, and, more to the point, they were not defacing the beautiful areas they were venturing into. 

Once back in the car park, now in the shade, my pre planned parking had paid off for the car was still relatively cool when I buckled up my safety belt before setting off to go home.

I thought that would be the end of my blog but there was more to come.  While I slowly drove home, through narrow lanes, I took in all the sights and sounds that were all round me.  In the distance, geese were honking and the strong smell of the 'Rape Seed' kept my nose twitching all the way home.

Due to driving as slow as possible, I kept a keen eye on the car's mirror.  One second there was nothing behind me and the next there was an open topped vehicle with a young female in the driving seat.  The young driver's passenger was an old lady that could have been the driver's grandparent. 

It was clear to me that the driver, behind me, was keen to put the car through its paces and, at the earliest and convenient place, I pulled into the side and let the car go on.  As soon as the car had overtaken me, I pulled in behind the overtaking vehicle and watched as the driver accelerated away from me until it was out of my sight. 

I could not help thinking, if I had had the same opportunities, as the young driver, what I would have done if the driving experience was reversed.  My guess is, as the wind blew in the warm air, off their open topped vehicle, that they were enjoying the risk free drive just as much as I was in my sedate 'super mini.'.

By for now,

John.         

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28 May 2009 1:10 AM

The photo, all be it a poor one, is of an old pit engine house; the power house to make sure all the things that were needed, on the bottom of a coal mine, arrived safely.

When the Pit closed down, the engine house was left standing for several years and, nature being what it is, thousands of starlings roosted in the building.  It was a wonderful sight to see, before the birds bedded down for the night, for they swarmed like locust and moved, in unison, this way and that then, at the blinking of an eye, they were gone from view as they settled down for the night. 

Close to the building, there once stood a huge chimney and, one day, I learned that the chimney was to be expertly demolished by means of blowing the brickwork up.

Days, weeks and even years went by before the chimney was finally demolished.

All this time I promised myself that, if it was possible, I would take photos of the chimney as it started to fall to the ground.

Eventually, word came to me to tell me that the chimney was to come down at the week end, it is a few years ago now,) so I prepared to take a sequence of shots as the structure fell and eventually hit the floor.

To take the photo, for we could not get any nearer than a couple of fields away, there were all sorts of problems to sort out so I visited the site, where I had decided to take the photo, several times before the big day came.

On the day of the photo shoot, for there was a change in the wind, I had to move from my original spot and, as it drew closer to the time of the controlled explosion, lots of people came and I had to move my location again to avoid them getting in the way of my photo shots.

I enlisted my wife, to keep keen eyed people away from where I had decided to take the photo and, for the most part, she was able to do her job well.

Having said that, the 'blow down', of the chinney, was deleyed for there was a sudden change in the wind and I felt the need to move again.

Eventually, the time came and a hooter was sounded then came a count down.  There were several explosions, the chimney toppled, broke away in the middle and began to fall to the ground and thuded then bounced with some of the structure still in tact as it hit the ground for a second time. 

After the structure had fallen, a huge black cloud of soot came away from the heap of rubble and slowly rose into the sky before breaking up and dispersing on the wind. 

From start to finish, and it seemed to be in slow motion at the time, while the chimny toppled, fell and broke up, I was able to get several quick fire shots off a hand held camera that would, by today's standards, be primative.

To make sure that all was well, I did not wind the film on, to get it out of the camera, until we were home.  Up until that time, I was pretty pleased with myself for I had prepared well and I was probably the only local person that had taken the trouble to photograph the happening. 

While I was doing something else, I asked my sone to wind on the film, so that it could be removed from the camera and sent away to be develolled, and then came the 'sick tummy' feeling, for there was no film in the camera.

My three years of preperation was ruined in a matter of seconds and there was nothing I could do about it.

Such is life.

JOhn.
           

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