Monday 16 January 2012

Running to Willow Holt Reserve

Really gritted the teeth of my still post xmas tubby self, and in no way aided by a glitchy FM radio on my phone, headed out into the frosty wilds to Willow Holt reserve.

Lincs FM stopping and starting in my ears all the damn way.

I've never been out here at this time of year before, but I figured, occasionally wrongly, that the hard frost would stop it being too muddy and difficult to run in. As it happened it was damn slippy at times.

Without leaves on the trees, The Holt has a bleak beauty and tranquility. The birds are quieter, there aren't so many folk about walking their dogs, the frost crisps up the grass with a silvery sheen.

Didn't see many songbirds about in the Holt or along the river bank, although I think I flushed 4 Redwing out of a tree opposite the power station. There was a large amount of Tufted Duck on the river at Farndon Ferry, which is an unusual sight, I always, probably wrongly, associate the second most common duck I see with still water.

The best thing I saw today though was at the Weir by the Power Station. The entrance the weir drop is lined by these curious and rather purposeless looking sort of flagpoles, and atop two of these were sat very sleek and raven black Cormorants, necks coiled like snakes resting on their prehistoric looking shoulders.

I swear one of them was eyeing me carefully as I ran by, wondering no doubt on a cold day with the fish sleepy, whether I was too  large to make a meal...

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