First trip of the Year 2013 to RSPB Langford Lowfields

The warmest day for 8 months, I'm told, and I wasn't going to waste it. Just after 9, and I was out of the flat, and as it turned out, into the strongest wind I've experienced all year. Luckily on the way to RSPB Langford Lowfields, it was more or less behind me all the way, and once I was out of town and into Winthorpe village, I was able to enjoy the sight chaffinches in the hedgerows, and the sound of chiff chaffs in virtually every tree between Winthorpe and Langford.

As I turned back onto the Sustrans 64, a buzzard was struggling to get aloft in the breeze as a Lapwing watched from the ploughed field.

The hedgerows were busy with chaffinches and particularly yellowhammers, the males looking dazzling when the sun caught their sunshine yellow heads. As I turned onto the new path - thanks for sorting the bridge out, but the gate is far too small to get a bicycle through easily! - two or three chiff chaffs were singing in the woods.

The weather has clearly damaged the reserve somewhat, and it is a little bare too with the cut back for the new path, but from the phase 1 hide there was plenty to see once I had decided to be patient.

Lots of tufted duck, the usual coots, only a solitary pair of mallard, and also a single wigeon, orange and yellow head easy to spot against the choppy water. On one of the spits, it looked like cormorants may have been nesting, near to where it looked like an oystercatcher was parked - difficult to tell -  and on the far side, an egret was patrolling in the long grass

Various black headed and herring gulls loafed about on the little islands, and a pair of canada geese honked mournfully as the fearsome wind tried to blow my eyeballs through the back of my skull.

The most interesting things I spotted were a pair of lapwing engaged in some sort of disaply flight, spiralling up on their ragged swept back wings, before dropping back to water level. On the far side of the water, I suddenly saw a pair of plain brown deer - apparently roe deer according to the Langford people. By now, my eyes and head couldn't take the wind any more, so I headed back along the path. And then my attention was taking by a couple of large birds in silhouette, beating the air slowly on large wings, before settling behind some trees between the second and third lakes. They appeared to be buzzard sized, but a different shape - wings seemed huge.

Could have been anything, I didn't get a good enough look. I had to content myself with watching a tree sparrow in a small tree, appropriately enough.

I then set off for Newark Air Museum, to take pictures of vulcans and MIGs! At least they stay still.

The First Butterfly of Spring!

It was a bright bright morning, and although the morning was getting on a bit thanks to the clocks goings forward, I decided to get a really solid run in.

So with "Just a Minute" on Radio 4 giving me something to mentally stimulate me as I ran out on the long boring run out of town towards Hawton and the countryside I haven't seen in a while due to the weather. I was hoping to see an early swallow or martin in the fields around Hawton, but the solitary citrus flash of a yellowhammer as I turned onto the Farndon Road.

Irritated by a runner behind me I did a couple of sneaky, childish sprints as I disappeared round corners and eventually got a hundred yards on him.

And then, as I entered Farndon and ran down towards the Boathouse - I figured Willow Holt would still be too soggy - a shadow flitted across my head, and looking sharply to the right I saw a very tatty looking butterfly being tossed around on the cold wind. It was dark underneath but I only got a fleeting glimpse - probably a peacock, perhaps a tortoiseshell.

The one tangible animate sign of spring I've seen!

A bit further round, on the river just before the power station reach, I noticed a small dark bird, that dived and never re-appeared despite me hanging around for a couple of minutes. Either it had Scuba gear, or my tired eyes were rubbish. I think it was a little grebe, which would be a very unusual sight for this section of river.

All in all, it was a really enjoyable long run, the sun almost felt warm. But everytime the wind blew, you felt the Siberian Jaws (a phrase miscoined by my Russian colleague when he read an earlier entry!) close their icy teeth on Spring again.

Buzzards Over Beacon Hill

I was awake early, the sky was blue through the curtains, all augured well for the sort of really early run I'm always promising to do on every off-shift I have.

Alas at 7am I got distracted by watching "The Life Acquatic with Steve Zissou" - and so it ended up being nearer 930 when I did my stretches and ventured out into a beautiful day marred by a bitter wind.

I ran out along Barnby Lane, and up into Coddington the back way. No kestrel by the A1 flyover, but the hedgerows were dotted with the usual yellowhammers, chaffinches and great tits. I wonder when the first house martins and swallows will decorate the power lines, and slice the sky up with the joy of their flying?

Decided to run through Beacon Hill reserve, and although no brambling erupted from the scrubby ground cover, I could see a buzzard far off in the distance being mobbed by crows. "Nice sight" I thought. "Bit far away though". But then, as I began to descend the muddy path towards the nursery, my eyes were alerted to the sight of a buzzard having evidently just launched from the belt of trees that marks the edge of the farmland, and struggling to find a thermal. I though it was being mobbed by crows as well, then it transpired there were two other buzzards slowly circling and flapping, looking for something to soar on.

Then suddenly, the sun warmed slope combined with the biting Nor'easterly wind gave them the lift they were looking for, and beautifully, effortlessly, they began to rise.

They were right over my head, and I had superb view, their tails steering them in the air flow, white wing markings prominent in the sun. And I took off my radio 4 blaring ear phones, and listened asnd you could hear them keening, as I remember from eerie dawns at an exes home in the welsh valleys. One bird ws much larger than the other two, whether this was sexual dimorphism or an older bird, I do not know. What I do know is that it wasnt as good a flyer as one of the smaller birds, which at one point gained a hundred feet as if it were in a lift without so much as twitching its wings. I watched them for ten minutes until they slowly moved off towards the industrial estate, utterly engrossed.

And to think folk want to put these birds in cages while they destroy their nests and eggs, or shoot them, or poison them. Ugh.

From Aviceda on wikimedia, this is exactly the view I had today.

Wildlife from my Windows

It's not just on my "epic" running and cycling trips that I cap an eye out for wildlife. There's plenty that can be seen from any window that overlooks even a small garden, or a few trees, and it can be a lot of fun just watching for ten minutes with a mug of tea in hand to see what you might see.

My flat overlooks my own postage stamp sized lawn, and a driveway slash car park area that is surrounded by some large sycamores, and a small ash tree my neighbours park their bird feeders on. From my kitchen, I can watch the feathered trade these fat balls and see generate. Usually it's just sparrows, but plenty of blue tits, great tits, chaffinches and if I'm very very lucky, small pinky breasted coat tits with their white mohican haircuts will give me something to watch as I make my breakfast.

A naughty squirrel has been defeated by the cage my neighbours have put around their feeder, but it still tries, hanging upside down at times as it tries to get its paws on a peanut. No joy for squirrels these days!

Out my living room window, my holly tree attracts fieldfare and redwing if I'm really lucky, but mainly the berries are all snaffled before christmas by woodpigeon and blackbirds. The sycamores sometimes attract a passing blackcap, or the joyful sight of a flock of goldfinches, but my favourite visitors are the little flocks of "seep seep seeping" long tailed tits that work their way from tree to tree, never stopping long as they look for insects on the skinny twigs, their tails twitching as they flit from branch to branch. A sight of them always cheers me up, no matter how gloomy I'm feeling.

So, there's always something to look at outside, no matter how humble your view. From sparrows squabbling endlessly outside my lounge, to flocks of all sorts splashing in the melting snow, the world's a pretty place if you let it be.

Home Town Floods

I understand large amounts of Willow Holt and my favourite run along the Fanrdon reach of the river trent are underwater; similarly RSPB Langford Lowfields has suffered badly. I guess it is better it happens now rather than in Spring and Summer when birds are nesting, but you wonder about the effect on mammals and any reptiles about.

I ran today round the Coddington Route - a bright, sunny and cold day. Somewhere over Banrbygate, a Buzzard was struggling to find a thermal in a very urban location Ive never seen a Buzzard in before!

But the purpose of the run, other than not becoming a repulsive fat oinker as normal, was to take some photographs of the floods in the town centre and along the castle and weir reach. This is about four feet down on peak level, which apparently was 4.8m above the usual Trent level! Yikes!

The Barge pub not attracting many drinkers

Newark Castle and Soggy Riverside Park

The Weir and The Island

Tough luck goose!

Went for a run through Willow Holt today, which was boggy, attractive, and quiet! The Eponymous Willows sport a few yellow leaves and look rather sorry for themselves. A Dunnock flew low across my path, and sat in a hawthorn next to the river.

I carried on my run, along the muddy path heading for the power station reach, and noticed a large flock of Mute Swans standing around in the wheat field (I think). A loud bang went off - the swans didn't move - and I saw a couple of characters in countryish looking jackets carrying a long pointy thing. A shotgun.

As I turned East, they picked up something big, and began to carry it back to a pick up. I waited to see what it was, thought it was a Pheasant at first. It turned out to be a Canada Goose. I think the farmers were worried I was going to report them for illegal persecution.

"Swans, they're protected. But these Canadians, well they've got to go."

Checking up, I now see they are regarded as vermin now and it is legal to shoot them. Still felt uncomfortable to see it done though. Tender hearted fool that I am! I hope they don't extend this cull to human Canadians, though I'm told they will probably taste infintely better than the geese themselves.

The View from the Library Window

A writing exercise to staty mentally sharp, this is! I'm sat here, writing e-mails, thinking about my screenplay, and looking for career inspiration and life improving things while thinking of the tea and cake I shall have later, once I have trecked the lightly frosted pavements looking for DVDs.

Twenty feet to my right is a the one set of windows I can see that aren't blocked by bookshelves. The slanting uppers are streaked with dirt, tree sap and the like probably infused with a heedy brew of pigeon droppings. The main tree outside is a silver birch just outside is a Silver Birch, many of its leaves still green, it's boughs looking a little damp and shivery. At its base are a couple of shrubs, probably well watered by the street drinkers that use the civial war sculpture I can't see as a meeting place. A female blackbird roots around in the leaf litter with frenetic tosses of its feathered head.

Beyond is a tree I can't identify, again hanging on to its leaves but these are the colour of polished brass - how instense the colours are this autumn, exacerbated by today's harsh light issuing out of a slightly washed out looking blue sky. This tree obscures most of the millenium arch, one metallic column stands in modern contrast to the original Beaumond Cross whch stands behind it, curiously off the vertical.

In the furthest part of the view, tall trees stand around a large house, multiple chimney stacks signalling old money.

There are a thousand greens outside, all beautiful.

A Grey Day, a Sad Day

Yesterday was my first free one after my shift, and I celebrated by getting up early, faffing about for two hours with bits and bobs in my flat, and finally heading out on the Coddington route. Few goldfinches about, and on the way up beacon hill, a lot of starlings on the farmland at the top, decorating the power lines like gothic baubles.

I'm not seeing many Yellowhammers in 2012 - normally they are all over the hedges when you go out onto the country, but this year have only seen the odd one. Still seeing plenty of Goldfinches in small flocks.

No sign of flocking Chaffinches yet. They are a common winter sight up at Beacon Hill park.

In the afternoon was a rather sad occasion, my last visit to the Millgate Museum cafe before it's permanent closure at 4.30pm - I rather fancied staying to the grim end but I had other stuff to do. It's been a wonderful place, nice cheap and generous pots of tea with two colour lollipops; little polystyrene bird or butterfly gliders to buy and sit upon my dusty mantlepiece amongst the Quiz League trophies wioth the decals falling off and endless flat batteries.

Everyday I'd sit and watch the river go by, dream of owning a houseboat, and watch the swans, mallards and wagtails - Pied in winter, Grey in spring. The big rusting barge fascinated me, its cloak of many oxidies colours, its collection of plants growing in the bilges. Dragonflies bluely glittered over the island.

And I sat with my tea, amidst the olde worlde toys and games that always fascinated me, sometimes talking to the excellent staff, or usually just reading and learning and dreaming of many many different escapes.

It's a terrible shame to lose a facility such as this. Sadly, I never saw it busier than on its last day.

More mushrooms

In the garden on a tree stump, these sulphur yellow beauties

Willy Wagtails and UFO Geese

Now that there is a distinct chill in the air, never more noticeable than when I cycle to work at 6am, the Pied Wagtails have descended in large numbers to brighten up a gloomy writer.

My mother calls them Willy Wagtails, no idea why, or if this is a generally accepted common name for these twitching, black and white smart little birds. But it suits them rather admirably I'd say, a polite little bird with dress and manners out of another century.

The best time to see them at the moment is 630pm, when I leave the Warehouse after another eleven and a half hours of daydreaming of not being there. The piping whistle gives them away before you look up and see them massing over the warehouse roof against a darkening indigo sky, long tails like tiny black comets; flight undulating like a sine wave. And then as you cycle away, you see them massing on the ground expertly dodging the cars, sitting on the fences, and swooping in little groups Starling like before pulling away at the last minute from the bushes by the lorry park where they seem to have a mass roost.

There is beauty to be found in every brown field wasteland or macadamised car park. If you are strolling by The Bell pub in Slab Square in Nottingham, take a look at the trees outside, especially when they have the christmas tree lights up. There's hundreds of Wagtails in there!

The other fun thing I've been noticing during my late night astronomy sessions - sadly misted out last night before midnight - are fleets of mysterious grey UFOs coming over, eerily lit in the moonlight. Flying in V shaped echelons, their engines emit a mysterious gentle honking noise- my god, what kind of propulsion systems are they using???!!! - and they have a long cockpit section and a chubby fuselage.

Things look different indeed by night. A woodpigeon went by the other night that looked like a giant Vampire Bat by the full moon.

Kestrel on the Hunt

Two good running days yesterday and today.

Alas yesterday, after running out to Hawton then across to Farndon, I found that Willow Holt was closed for Haymaking and cleaning up Dog Mess - ugh, bloody nature reserve and still folk can't clean up after their dogs. I saw a few Dragonflies about on the cut across to Farndon, but strangely none by the river, which seemed to be being readied for some exciting World Team Cup of fishing.

Haven't seen any sign of the opening ceremony on television though! On the reach opposite the Power Station, someone was catching a beautiful 5 pound or so Barbel, greeny silver sides, vermillion fins. I'm not massively keen on coarse fishing, but it was a pleasure to see such an attractive fish. On the whole it was a good run along the river, about 8 miles, and the sun shone and the fields glistened.

Today, not long back from a run out to Beacon Hill park, the clay lane, back of estate way. First sight of a flock of Long Tailed Tits on the cycling path, not seen any of those for a while, and a Comma butterfly obligingly allowed itself to be photographed at the entrace.

 Someone put on a real star show for me today, as I ran along the main grassland of Beacon Hill reserve; a Kestrel was hunting low down, barely 10 feet off the ground and no more than twenty metres away. Never seen one so close, hovering in that characteristic fashion, occasionally dropping to the ground before flying up again, empty taloned. Have never seen one working the reserve before, and was very glad to see it today, working East to West across the plateau. Wonder what lives in the grass up there - voles and field mice I guess. No rabbits to be seen at the moment, which is very unusual.

A Southern Hawker (I'll keep calling them that) flew alongside me as I ran, looking rather a sad, dull blue in the grey cloud that came over at that point. I wasn't sad though, it was a lovely early afternoon to go running.

I know so many nice places round here. And you don't!

Fighting Dragonflies at Willow Holt

Ran today, a long one after night time - 3am - trips to Asda for snacking purposes have made me feel chubby and guilty.

So it was a punishment run today, radio 4 in my ears, and I headed out along the Hawton Road, a few white butterflies in the air and not much else. I turned onto the Hawton  - Farndon Road and noted that a few Swallows and Martins were about, it was a nice day, and there was a lot of insect life about as I dragged myself over the bypass; there was a rich smell of cheese in the air, a camembert effect drifting on the wind that although strange sounding was rather more pleasant than the manure vomit smell that wafts in from the rubbish tip when the wind journeys from that corner.

Entered Farndon, along Wyke Lane, past smiling folk with dogs - you get a better class of dog owner in Farndon I reckon - and into a boggy Willow Holt, the meadows rather bereft of life, sad autumnal signs despite a shining sun.

A solitary Meadow Brown was flushed by my clanky gate openings. THe fields at ground level quiet. But then, as I went through the next gate, a shower of Common Darters erupted out of the elderberries, a couple of them taking time to study me with insectoid compund eyes. The females are a dullish yellow green, the males a vermillion of rare beauty.

But that wasn't the whole of it, no.

As I went over the marina bridge, past the barge pub that torments me as I pass it yet again without going for a drink there, along the quay, a vivid green dragonfly shot past me, no idea what it was but the green really stood out! And around it, big Hawkers, Southern or Common, buzzed each other aggressively in the air and arched their bodies into this bent mating position. Another bright blue dragonfly went by, like the big boss.

They never ever let me get a close look! Ever!

A few banded demoiselles were about on the water, but their activity peak seems to have been a couple of weeks ago. As the path wended its way towards the power station, more and more dragonflies silently criss crossed and backtracked from the bushes across the path; the meaning behind their movements a mystery to me.

Occasionally they look like Aces High footage of fighting biplanes! Sopwitch Camels of the Trent bankside fighting, as the pleasure barges and cabin cruisers see me wave, but suspect not the war in the air raging but a few metres away.

Red Star dallyings

Had a couple of pleasant night's observings, the low moon not a major hassle but wiping out the slim as paper chance of observing Messier 33 in Triangulum, which is the latest

Messier 15, Messier 31, Messier 39, Messier 34, Perseus Double Cluster, Mirfak Cluster, One of the Cass Clusters, and milky way stars dripping off the obsidian background.

What I have particularly enjoyed looking at in my 10x50s are the various red and orange stars you can see this time of year - Enif and Scheat in Pegasus, Kocab, Alpha Aries, the soft gold Albireo, and harsher orange to be found not far away in the head of the dragon.

The two orange Andromeda stars are a contrast - Beta is a real red head, a stellar Rita Hayworth, whereas Gamma along the way is the lady with auburn hair, a pastel by Renoir I saw in the Burrell in Glasgow and have never forgotten.

The star that interested me the most however lay over in the Mirfak Cluster in Perseus. An interloper, perhaps, compared to the blue white stars around Mirfak itself, but a real deep, near garnet star red cuckoo in the nest, about Mag 5-6. Can't find any kind of name for it, but it's not my imagination, I've seen pictures of it. For once.

I wish I knew it's designation.

Baby Moorhens

They always seem to have a late brood, the local moorhen population. A few days ago, I saw a family of these black feathery pom poms with comedy feet by the windmill on the Trent coming back in from Farndon.

And again on the London Road lake, there's a late family of four moorhen chicks, who are bloody difficult to photograph, I ran past them today, and the Great Crested Grebe family too, diving away as the rain turned to sun and back again in the space of ten minutes.

Other latecomers are The Red Admirals - always the last butterfly to show their antennad faces, there are now plenty on the wing, to go with the last throes of the dragonflies, as summer ends and the berries decorate the bushes warning of colder weather

I Urge You to Visit Butterfly Park

If you happen to be up on Beacon Hill ways, perhaps having just had a refreshing fight round the pub, or an encounter with ghosts in a town centre cellar and are looking for something different to do, just have a little wander into Beacon Hill Nature Reserve (one entrace just after Playschool om Beacon Hill, another a mile further along, one off industrial estate opposite Everyday Champions..er..thing) and go and have a look at the butterflies.

Yes, it's that odd time of the year when for some reason the Buddleiahs by the funny steampunk gas substation have just the right amount of nectar, sugar, or whatever it is, to attract butterflies in huge numbers. A week ago there was barely a butterfly on the flowers, a couple of days ago there were large numers of Peacocks and Red Admirals drinking from the purple, and white blossoms, trying hard to ignore the sweating jogging idiot showing a mobile phone camera up their backsides.

The Buddleiahs were alive with wings of coloured velvet, and for some reason even the ground was busy with Meadow Browns - in a part of the reserve you don't normally see them, with their varied orange brown through mouse to dark wings with a little dark eyes on them. There's all manner of little day flying moths here too, and the Birds Foot Trefoil still just about hangs on low to the ground, yellow and gold.

Just have a little look! A nature reserve next to the industrial estate, and most of you have no damn idea! And soon there might be lots of blackberries too!

Hello young bird

Found you in the cemetery - not sure if was a young Woodpigeon or a young Collared Dove. The stupidity of sitting none too discretely says Dove to me, I never regard them as the brightest of our feathered friends; one would think the advice spoonfed to young birds of "Sit still and don't move" would work better in a hedge, not the middle of a well cropped lawn.

Bitten to Death in Langford Lowfields

So, yesterday, tired because of aforementioned late night meteor and rum sessions, got upon my bicycle and headed out for RSPB Langford Lowfields in my denim cutoffs and on my non Wiggins issue mountain bike.

Out at Langford Lowfields, the weather was beautiful...and the reed bed was deserted! Aside from a Swan, an Egret and a Great Crested Grebe.

The Egret however must have known I was there though, and put on a great show for me as I watched through my 10x50s...strutting elegantly through the reed bed, crest drooping right down its neck, and obligingly spearing a small fish as I watched its Max Wall stylee perambulations.

An Egret's plumage by the way, is the whitest thing I've ever seen in the Bird kingdom, and among the whitest things I've ever seen ever!

A Common Tern - think clean seagull that doesn't steal your Rick Stein Fish and Chips in Padstow - then turned up and had a little mosey round.

The Langford bods have refilled the feeders, and flocks of Tree Sparrows and Greenfinches were having a munch, in the non BDSM sense of the word. And also having a munch, on me, were the Vulcan bombers of the insect world, these camo winged flies that take great delight in biting me - I watched one actually make my arm bleed.

Research at home indicates that they are Twin Lobed Deer Flies, and yes they are vicious biters! Today, my arms and legs are starting to come up with the familiar big hot hard lumps. Why can't insects all be like the lovely Common Darters, Common Blue Damselflies and a big Southern Hawker that buzzed me, it's body hooped in turquoise.

Way out over the water, in my 10x50s, I even saw an Emperor, it's body big enough to be seen at 75 plus meters, and glowing blue over the water!

So the bites don't spoil it that much!

Naughty Bumble Bees

Today's run was a total washout. The sun was out when I started and hardly a cloud in the sky; within 5 minutes I was getting pelted with rain and hail.

On my wall, a Queen Bumble Bee was being mated by a small male. He was taking his time, for which I hardly blame him as the end of sexual activity results in his own death. The thing that intrigued me, was that the Queen was a big black bee with a red tail, and the male was the standard buff tailed model.

I photographed them. I presume they are actually of the same species, but it did look odd. Wonder if interspecies mating does take place?

The weather was so atrocious, didn't see a single other living thing. A dead toad on clay lane doesn't count.

Today in Butterfly Land

Today's run took me past London Road Lake, where the Grebe family lookss like it's lost a member alas and huge swan droppings still have to be avoided by the dilligent runner.

Clay Lane is overgrown to hell, still very boggy, and brambles snagging your legs everywhere. Machete job in some places. Speckled Wood butterfly, and a few gatekeepers, looking as ever like Dart Flights.

But Beacon Hill park was filled with butterflies, chiefly Ringlets, Meadow Browns and Gatekeepers amongst the thistles and groundselly stuff in the nursery area. An awful lot of them! An awful load of them. Every step I took seemed to scare up two or three butterflies!

But not in the butterfly park, where the Buddleiahs are in full bloom but the Peacocks, Admirals, Commas and Painted Ladies are not. Lots of honeybees and bumble bees feeding. Watched them rubbing the pollen on their legs. Trying to take pictures.

And then I carried on along the river, loving more boats, and watching a rather chubby looking black headed gull by the locks. Lovely run. Lovely day.

Long Run to Willow Holt

Thought I'd written Logan'sRun in that header. Must be going mad.

Headed out to Hawton first, and watched the swallows carving the air millimetres above the ripening wheat on the road to Farndon, and a kestrel launching from a tree next to the road.

I love Willow Holt. I'd love it even more if I was walking through it or sitting in it with a bottle of wine and a pretty girl, rather than as scudding through it as part of a ten and a half mile run or so. The Notts Wildlife Trust folk have gotten rid of a lot of the Himalayan Balsam pest, but the orchidy, triffidy pink flowers are still evident along the river, as are a fair few chaffinches. It was a dull day, but a few Banded Demoiselles were about, and another couple of the dull bronzey looking big dragonflies, maybe Brown Hawkers.

Lots of  little brown birds caught glimpse of in the corn fields.

I love the river runs. I love looking at the river's peaceful surface, disturbed only by the weir patrolled by herons and cormorants.

I always make a point of waving at the boats. Always.