Pimms and Astronomy

As expected, last night offered some decent conditions for backyard astronomy; the milky way could even be seen in Cygnus, a faint shimmer against the urban skies.

With Pimms Number 1 in a very pleasant combination with rasberry and blackberry sparkling water, I took my 10x50s outside at about 1245am, and first up took in the sight of an angry, red-green flashing Antares within the branches of the trees blocking my lower southern aspect. No chance of seeing Messier 4, that's for sure, but Antares itself is always a great sight, the celestial scorpion's angry, unmerciful eye as it chases the virgin across the sky.

Sweeping around, I picked up the Messier 3 and Messier 5 globular clusters - as it turned out viewing conditions were a little hazier than I had first thought - and then strained to find Messier 51 and Messier 81. Messier 51 seems to be visible as a very faint smudge forming an equilateral triangle with two 8th mag stars, but 81 I'm never sure of. Which is odd, as it ought to be easier to spot than the Whirlpool.

I had one target in mind for the night's observing, and picked it up fairly easily. Having seen Messier 71 in Sagitta, I headed NE from there, and was able to pick up Messier 27, the famous Dumbell Planetary Nebula, reasonably easily.

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Dumbbell_Nebula

I thought I had spotted this the night before, but this will have been the Open Cluster NGC6885 north of the well known "Coathanger" asterism.

I finished off the evening with a sweep through Cygnus, spotting Messier 29 and Messier 39, before heading into the rising world of the west through a stop off at NGC 7243 in Lacerta. I caught my first summer look at the Mirfak and Perseus double clusters. A joy, but a warning of autumn days ahead, sadly.

Photo log of run to willow holt and along the trent

Ramson, or Wild Garlic, at Willow Holt

 

Cotham Power Station over a field of oilseed rape

 

Disgusting Fly Tipping opposite power station - reported to council

Bumblebee and honey bee visit Russian comfrey

Buttercup field after power station reach

Red campion in Willow Holt

I wave to The Sonning, they wave back

Forget me nots after bypass goes overhead

Very large thistles

Cream crackered afterward!

1st June Visit to RSPB Langford Lowfields

I'd planned to head out this morning as soon as I knew the weather forecast was good, and that my bicycle wasn't going to fall apart underneath me. I took the Langford village way, where house martins were having a good old time in the air above the cottages. However, a sad sight was a badger dead in the verge; they have enough to fear from cars without having to worry about government sponsored culling as well.

Today was unusual. I often go to Langford Lowfields with an aim of seeing something they have tweeted or blogged about, and most of the time, me being a far inferior bird and wildlife watcher than them, I don't see it. They've written about damselflies this week, well, I didn't see any of those.

But I saw my other target.

I arrived at the reed bed hide, and as promised, the wetlands were alive with sand martins feeding just above the surface of the water. Hundreds of them, almost clogging up the view in my binoculars with their agile brown bodies. Black headed gulls seem to have colonised several areas, and there was no sign of the deformed wigeon I've also read about. However, as I swept the area in my 10x50s, I saw what I'd ridden out 6 miles for, and I let out a censorable shout of joy.

In the distance, daintily striding about the shallows, was an avocet. The first I've ever seen.

It is a beautiful bird, delicate and elegant, with it's characteristic upcurved beak and a mainly white plumage with a black V on its back. It also sports a sort of smudgy olive green wing bar, and long green legs. It flew off, and I hoped it wasn't goping to disappaear out of view. But no, it made its way off to a small island, and there joined another specimen, whether they are a pair or not I do not know. They fed in the shallows, as a mute swan sailed past obvlivious. They are really a lot smaller than you think, as with most waders, the ducks and even the numerous coot seem to dwarf them. But to the RSPB they are iconic birds, and you can see why.

What a joy to see them!

As I headed back up ther path, I stopped several times to listen to the huge variety of annoymous birdsong blasting out of the hedgerows, take in a fine sight of a reed bunting, and a chiff chaff was singing loudly in the wood at the edge of the site, it's song given an echoing quality by the trees. I'd already had my highlight however, and how pleased I am, to be able to write about having seen not one, but two, avocet!

Velo Vignettes

What have I encountered today, a small set of small encounters with small things I've seen while on my rickety bicycle, helmet on and trousers tucked into my socks in lieu of bicycle clips.

First up, 7am this morning, my best ever view of a pretty little linnet on a chain link fence at work. At work, judging by the bubbly tweets I could hear, a pied wagtail was trapped in the building somewhere, but I never got to exercise my (not) celebrated bird rescuing skills.

Fast forward twelve hours. Only misery and suffering and endless Top Gear repetition happens at work. I've just returned from a lovely evening's cycle ride to Coddington, greenfinches on telephone wires, yellowhammers in the hedgerows. All the "Give Way" signs were lit up by a golden sunset.

A Vulcan bomber, or rather THE, Vulcan Bomber, flew overhead on a test flight in washed out evening sky. And as I went along the Sustrans 64 a water vole somehow ran between my bicycle wheels without getting squished.

And I was going at a pretty good clip as well.

Nature photobombing from my moblie

I'm not too Poor for Oysters

Went out running on a lovely sunny afternoon, if a little breezy. I was going to take the Coddington route and then in a slightly comedic "errr...ummm" locomotory moment in the middle of the street, changed direction, deciding to take the Hawton-Farndon route instead.

I was in quest of dragonflies and damselflies. They've been reported at Langford Lowfields, and I figured I might see some common blue damselfly or banded demoiselles on the Farndon stretch of the river.

I didn't. Not a single damsel or dragon to be had. But, it was still a pleasant day, with the wood anemones in Willow Holt, and the swallows and sand martins skimming the water's surface. Peacock, small and large whites, and orange tips butterflies were on view, and a lot of those small white cottony day flying moths too.

What I did see that was a first for this stretch of river for me, was on the power station wall on the far side of the river. I noticed a red flash coming into land, and waited for the bird to reveal itself. I saw black and white, and thought, "ok, lapwing, nothing to see here" but as I looked closer, I could just see the characteristic long red beak of an oystercatcher as the bird strode along the wall.

A nice sighting for me! Something to reflect on, as I ran through gorgeous fields of buttercups as I headed back into town...

I just love being outside!!!

A day like this, with sky the colour of Aphrodite's eyes and birdsong in the air, is not a day to be sitting inside. And I had no intention of doing so, days like this are too precious to waste.

So I got the radio on, and headed through a cemetery alive with bluebells, and forget me nots, and a few wood anemone too. My new running shoes felt good, my lungs felt clear, and every dog I ran past had a smile on its face for a change, rather than snapping at my ankles.

I ran for 70 minutes around a cricket match, much to the amusement of the players, and noted the house martins flying over deep sqaure leg, and the pied wagtail fielding at long on. The pavilion has a tit of some kind nesting in a hole in the wooden wall, and white butterflies flitted about.

Eventually I headed down the cycle path, past robins, dunnocks, long tailed tits and even the rare sight of a greenfinch. On Clay Lane park, instead of a buzzard, a remote control glider was soaring way above.

On the river, folk were enjoying the beer festival, and I was enjoying the prospect of getting home after a two hour plus run. But I wasn't done with the day yet, an hour later I was cycling out to Cotham Flash Paddocks, where the yellow wagtails were gone, but there were a lot of noisy lapwings with their bizaree swannee whistle calls. And a brown hare nibbling a farmer's crops.

I loved it, just loved it.