I love that word and I don't even know if it exists. It's like Gerry Anderson's Thunderbirds and their "Supermarionation", only for taking close ups of pretty flowers instead of filming Brains struggling to come through a door on his strings.
The world has been frozen in time, as I go through my four day shift. It all happens outside the window, and by the time I get to leave at this time of year, though it may be light, buzzers and flutterers have gone home for the day. So I spend my on shift wondering what I shall do on the off, and ultimately overdoing it so I always end up slightly disappointed with efforts when I'm not working.
Now I have a bit more time off, so what to do now? The forty mile Robin Hood Byway loop on my bicycle? Whisby nature reserve? Leicester Space Centre? I'm waffling, I'm sure I've said all this before, but hey, I can do that on my own blog, surely.
One thing I intend to do is sketch, I think. Impressionistic sketching, working quickly as not to mess anything up. My artistic inability shames me, yet artists say there is one of them, in all of us. In my case I doubt it, but I will try.
Oh, I'm also going to read more. Outside. At night. With a head torch on.
All text and images copyright CreamCrackeredNature 13.04.16
|Bluebell in the oak wood|
|On the inside|
|Lesser celandine, Devon Pastures|
|Daffodil and bug|
|Forget me nots|
|Candy coated hyacinth|
|Seven spotter spotted|
|Not speedwell, found growing in a doorstep|