Hi readers (!!!)
Today cycled on my not working terribly well bicycle which seems very draggy in the back wheel department out to Willow Holt. The weather isn't particularly cold, but there is a bit of a breeze in the air.
At Farndon, in marked contrast to my last visit, everything was suffused in a slight battleship grey mist and all the beautiful Southern Hawker dragonflies have gone. In fact, very few birds were on show although there was a fair bit of chatter in the high treetops, and a few Dunnocks I think kept shooting out of the bushes, and a whaat I thought was a Great Tit "teach-ered" past my damp vantage point and my muddy bicycle into the Willows.
The Willows were the things that attracted my attention first, and in particular their golden yellow leaves, a gorgeous colour that I had to photograph. Curiously some other Willows just along were still sporting green leaves, I guess some kind of hardier species.
The other thing I noticed, as I revelled in the peace and quiet of not being in a crappy noisy workplace, was the falling leaves themselves. They were falling straight down, in lazyy spirals, in a mad spinning dervish of orange and brown, fluttering in the wind like a tree's eyelashes. But the best little arboreal acrobat was a twig with three leaves attached, that flew in great circles in the wind like a lazily crashing helicopter, almost seeming to actually gain a little height at times, an optical illusion no doubt but one that re-inforced the idea in my head that the tree god, or the Dryads, were having a little competition to see who could fly a leaf the longest.
Like a sort or organic "Scrapheap Challenge"
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