I was at Welney, drinking coffee, watching waders, having discussions and generally relaxing.
I deliberately did not take a complex camera with me. My iPhone (admittedly with a Fjorden grip, which is a Leica product) did the job.
The view from coffee:
A pied wagtail, exiting left:
I can't resist such shots:
And a reminder that autumn is on its way. The swallows are already gathering, maybe with that journey southward in their minds:
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We saw the swallows gathering in Bwlchtocyn on the 10th August. One flew so close to the caravan window I could have touched it if window was open! They hung on for a few more days, but I haven’t seen on since last wednesday. So I think they must have gone for this year now.
I’ve seen plenty of other birds close up – greenfinches, bluetits, an occasional great tit, and LOTS of sparrows! :-)! Also seen the ravens flying over, my guess is to Porth Ceiriad. The other evening we saw something fly past bedroom window after dark, too big to be a bat. It was flying low over the hedge, up and down following the foliage levels. Possibly after the bank vole we saw a few days ago. Looked pale, so maybe a barn owl? I’m not good on owls!
My other exciting viewing was a humming bird hawk moth, flying around on our deck! There are lots of flowers growing (in pots) there, but it didn’t land. When husband goes home to collect the post I’ve asked him to bring some white valerian plants from our front garden, as the humming bird hawk moths always go to them there to feed when they visit. We’ll put some on the deck, and some by the hedge. Fingers crossed it might visit again.
Barn owl sounds likely…
And white valerian is a nice plant to have, even if spreads like heck
The othe night my delight was to be in the garden and hear a rustling – it was a very plump hedgehog
Talking of hedgehogs i saw two together the other evening. First time ever I’ve seen two.
One of them was large, obviously feeding well.
It was quite late but it made my day. We don’t see them as often as we used to.
Agreed
I was delighted
a wander above Lathkil Dale on Wednesday – hot and sunny – Red Admiral, Brimstone (female), swallows, Kestrel, something hiding in a bush/drystone wall possibly rat? (too big for black bird) – on another wander some while ago, dippers around the falls on the River Lathkil – and when I lived there (Over Haddon) a Little Owl frequently perched on the lower part of the roof, hedgehogs visited, badgers climbed the drystone walls, and once I surprised a hare (moorland) who was running on hind legs in front of me until it realised my presence – quite a sight until it fled, and of course no camera or phone at the ready. There were pipistrelles in the disused Chapel. Occasionally we met lambs ‘on safari’ (they liked ‘Chapel bank’ with uncut fresh grass) – so a quick call to the farmer. Once I had a blackbird nesting in my garden but the female was killed (poisoned?- I later found the body on the lane above my house) – the chicks did not survive and the male sat on the wall high above my garden and sang for his mate – it was heart-breaking.
Thank you for sharing.
I suppose the blackbird singing for his ‘mate’ reminded me of the Gilbert & Sullivan (Mikado) =
On a tree by a river a little tom-tit
Sang “Willow, titwillow, titwillow!”
And I said to him, “Dicky-bird, why do you sit
Singing Willow, titwillow, titwillow’?”
”Is it weakness of intellect, birdie?” I cried,
“Or a rather tough worm in your little inside?”
With a shake of his poor little head, he replied,
“Oh, willow, titwillow, titwillow!”
He slapped at his chest, as he sat on that bough,
Singing “Willow, titwillow, titwillow!”
And a cold perspiration bespangled his brow,
Oh, willow, titwillow, titwillow!
He sobbed and he sighed, and a gurgle he gave,
Then he plunged himself into the billowy wave,
And an echo arose from the suicide’s grave —
“Oh, willow, titwillow, titwillow!”
Now I feel just as sure as I’m sure that my name
Isn’t Willow, titwillow, titwillow,
That ’twas blighted affection that made him exclaim
”Oh, willow, titwillow, titwillow!”
And if you remain callous and obdurate, I
Shall perish as he did, and you will know why,
Though I probably shall not exclaim as I die,
“Oh, willow, titwillow, titwillow!”
I’ve seen/heard many renditions of the above – Eric Idle, Richard Suart and a few others, including more recently Simon Butteriss , and including Tokyo Opera/Theatre ‘sending’ themselves up with a production of Mikado in Japanese – that is unforgettable even if I know very few (if any) words in Japanese. I loved my time in Japan especially my time in with Tokyo Opera and various theatres there – I am very fortunate to have experienced music, opera, ballet and ‘productions’ around the world (you must not ask me to name them – please) – too old now for that, but the many and wonderful memories remain.
Here in the far north the Lapwings are getting ready to leave, swirling in flippy floppy clouds over the loch. The curlew are still making their wonderful lonely calls but they will go soon enough. I haven’t even heard a drumming Snipe for a few days. The heather is so purple with more to come So despite it being early (apparently because of the droughts) autumn does feel like its on its way. The dark velvety nights are coming fast and soon we will be able to see the merrie dancers (northern lights) while the Greylag geese fly across, chattering among themselves.
I saw four snipe this morning…