Today was more of a proper run than a photography expedition - hey, it is allowed - as I felt I needed to see what my actual running pace was for a change.
Plus, these runs slowed down by photo-opp stops do not impress social media contacts. 10km in 65 minutes just screams "PLODDER!!!".
So, I set out along the Owl Road, noticing that with the better weather the homeless guy has packed his tent and stolen away, perhaps heading for colder climes. Owl Road was devoid of owls, but a few goldfinch around, and to up the miles, I headed for Hawton, but then cut across along the Farndon Road.
Lots of fieldfare were in the fields either side of the Farndon road, their slate grey rumps and heads, and pale underwings and breast plain as they flew off if you got too close. On the radio, Mark Steele talked amusingly about Glastonbury, humour being an astonishingly rare event in any 1130am show on Radio 4.
The wind was sharp and icy despite the warm sun, and Willow Holt is still closed for grazing, so it was just a straight drift back in along the river, where geese swam in fleets and I saw a winter dulled reed bunting.
The ducks at the old windmill awoke at my presence, and pigeon flocks clouded about the fields. A lovely run...
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| Site of the camp |
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| Nice dash on this Triumph Vitesse |
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| Charming and tumbledown |
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| Unrelated, but genius at the library |
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