Winthorpe Lake Trek

 Badly hindered by my ankle injury I'm really not getting out and about as much as I'd like to during this time out, making me feel frustrated and overweight. So my walk out to Winthorpe Lake for a couple of hours, listeing to cricket on the radio and enjoying the mental helath boost the outside world gives me. 

It isn't the most scenic route in the world, I have to say. The walk along the River Trent is rather bleak, with the monotony of a bank given over to the needs of angling broken occasionally of a flushed heron making its way over the water with great, slow wingbeats. Then you get the somewhat nicer stretch along the old elevated railway line before arriving at the lake itself.

Well known locally for the giant concrete barge that ran itself agroung after some kids set it free, I always find this a bit of a sterile spot for wildlife purposes; you don't see many birds here and the ones you do see are fairly unremarkable. 

It never crops up in any local birds of interest report either. 

I don't know why this is, perhaps with Langford Lowfields and Besthorpe nearby the birds have somewhere nicer to go without risking being tangled up in fishing line. 

Still, I enjoyed being out, sore ankle and all reminding me with every step I should give up bowling at cricket. Grrrrr.

Si

All text and images copyright CreamCrackeredNature 17.09.22

A Ten Mile Odyssey

Today I fancied taking a walk out along the Trent Valley Way as far as my little legs would carry me, out to Collingham and possibly beyond, a real all dayer, a big adventure, using my online OS map on my phone to see me safely on my way, to listen to clever radio all day, and return tired but improved.

I of course always fail to remember my impatience.

I cannot do anything slowly; walking steadily somewhere seems alien, it takes too long out of the day, it doesn't burn enough calories. I had barely taken a step out of my front door when I immediately began to make a trot, and then a jog.

A jog was all it was going to be, I'm not running with any freedom at all at the moment - not like I'm an Allyson Felix like gazelle of an athlete at the best of times - and I soon started feeling a bit sore. I kept on going, dodging the stretch of river now claimed by scrap dealing fishermen, and ran under the bypass into Winthorpe and beyond.

The Trent Valley Way starts as an off track route just out of Winthorpe, and follows what I'm guessing is a disused railway embankment along the side of the Trent. Being worn grassland it is a lot easier on the body to run on, but there are some muddy bits to catch you unawares and send you sprawling disgracefully down the bank. If you are unlucky this will involve sliding through dog mess as well.

I stayed on my feet today, but I knew I wasn't going to get any further than Holme Village, especially as my path was becoming strewn with more and more cowpats. Joy joy joy. Saving the long trip for another day, I turned off the route onto a footpath that led me into Holme.

Holme is a small village of less than 200 people and no facilities - no pub means no Si ever living there - but it is pretty enough. The church of St Giles is probably the most impressive small church in the area, with it's impressive fascia above the door, turret, and steeple.

Corn marigold is growing round the walls, and speedwell is out again on the pathway.

I returned by a slightly different route that took me around Winthorpe fishing lake. The concrete barge is a legendary fixture, now part of the landscape to the extent it has trees growing in it. But again, it is a sterile place, for for fishing but not much else, with only a solitary gull out on the water.

I was getting very creaky, and my trot back to town was very laboured. I ended up doing 10 miles.

I felt I had earned my Aldi Sunny Delight!

Si

All text and images copyright CreamCrackeredNature 22.09.17

The Dragonflies of Langford Lowfields

You'll have to bear with me. I'm running a day behind with my post, because after posting my bone chilling eclipse vigil yesterday, I felt that maybe a double dose of me in one day might be a bit much for readers with sensitive stomachs.

Yesterday, I cycled 30km around the back lanes of Stapleford Wood and Collingham on what was a glorious day for cycling; light winds and pleasant warmth, and quiet roads to enjoy them on. Once again, I resolved to break my journey at Langford, to have a little sit and a drink, and to see what was going on nature wise.

Once again, I found myself on unknown roads, including a slightly unnerving encounter with a level crossing where I had to operate the gates myself. Luckily pretty coloured lights helped me decided when there was no chance of getting walloped by a train.

Langford was wonderfully still and quiet, with only one other visitor, an older chap who had headed out there on an electric bike. There weren't many birds to be seen on the water however; the autumn arrivals obviously haven't made their way over yet, and the bittern and marsh harrier were keeping a low profile in the reeds somewhere.

What there were in abundance were dragonflies. All the damsels may have now gone, but common darters are still numerous, low level flyers often flushed up from basking on the paths. They do like to settle on posts or bushes however, and so do present a photo opportunity for the cameraman with any degree of subtlety whatsoever, like I haven't got. Luckily, they were kindly disposed yesterday.

No chance of that with the other species present however. The migrant hawkers operate rather higher off the ground, flying in relentless angular patrols and chewing up smaller insects in flight with ease. Less curious of humans than the larger southern hawkers, they nevertheless will give you a close flyby from time to time, a very audible rustling flutter from their wings as they do so.

I've seen migrant hawkers at rest a couple of times, and a couple of years ago managed to get a really up close film of one on my old mobile, accompanied by some awful cod wildlife commentary from the writer. But today, with the sun warm in the sky, all they wanted to do was fly.

Because there aren't many flying days left for them.

Si

All pictures and images copyriht CreamCrackeredNature 29.09.15

Lovely sight upon arrival

Warm shone the sun

Lovely Langford greens

CLose up greens on a baby oak tree

These are irridescent water beetles or larvae of some kind. 

Camouflage

Harder to hide here!