It wasn't warm but it was very muggy today, got pretty damp and sticky while pounding away on these still rather stiff legs. On London Road lake, the drakes still seem to be in eclipse (side note, have seen NO mallard chicks on the lake this year, why?) and on Clay Lane the speckled woods were out, fluttering amongst the fresh fly tips.
Bizarrely, the biggest fly tip seemed consist mainly of one of those Playstation Rockband games - the whole thing, guitar, bass drums. And a load of camping mattress things. No easy thing to get loads of crap there, as there is no easy car access I can see.
Still a bloody disgrace though, and trying to burn the stuff doesn't make it any better, you filthy swine!
In the farmers fields at the end of the lane, the grain is ripening, and large flocks of sparrows had gathered to feed. A large flock of crows flew over Beacon Hill, and for some reason there was a large flock of gulls circling the railway line. Maybe a sardine carrying train had crashed.
It was a dull day, and a painful 7 mile run. But on Beacon Hill, the butterflies were out in force, mainly peacocks with a few red admirals thrown in, startled off the deck by passing runners and few kids on bikes who had no idea what they were missing.
But then, butterflies are for softies, as a near psychotic football thug told me one night when I was admiring a friends picture of a comma at the pub one night. He demanded I talk about football.
I refused, and was amazed I was allowed to survive the night.