Now, my Barnby Adventure!

I did my Barnby run today, on a crisp morning with a chill Northerly keeping hungry kestrFor once, I was glad of my windproof.

The run to Barnby in the Willows is a long flat deceptive drag after the crossroads. Fields of cabbages keep a clear horizon and you can see all the way across to Claypole and beyond.

Horse liveries are everywhere, complete with old school road mirrors.

Runner reflection not included

As I approached the village, a big echelon of probably pink footed geese, perhaps a hundred strong, went overhead on a southerly heading. Many of these birds have been seen on the move today; perhaps these birds are the same as some seen over Mansfield Wodehouse earlier in the morning.

A kestrel too was on view, hunting in the wind, absolutely effortless.

I ran through the village, and paused in the churchyard for photographs.

Barnby Church

The entrance under the sun

The tower

An old grave stone

A Barnby in the Willows willow

I then crossed the River With an, into unknown lands. Hell, a sign told me I was now in a different county.

River Witham

I'd run into a different county!

I ran along the Witham a little way to the next bridge. I paused to photograph a pair of mute swans, and as I did so I was thrilled to see a kingfisher fly out from
me, quite a cold blue in the bright light and easily seen against the dark, clear water.

The Witham is full of pike, but I saw none today.

Swans. And somewhere in this view is a kingfisher

Instead of trying to follow the river and getting lost in the tangled muddy banks, I headed along farm tracks to haybarns, disappointed to see no redwing or fieldfare around.

Haybarn

I was going to turn round here, but kept on after spotting blue flowers through the low hedge line. This was chicory, and a very late honeybee was having a feed. Is this the last bee I'll see this year?

Chicory flower

I hate retracing steps, but I had to turn round to avoid ending up in Claypole or Brant Broughton. I did get lost in the manor house grounds. Terribly sorry!

In all, by the time I was back in Newark I'd covered 15.97km. And my legs felt every one of them!

Not the Barnby Adventure...

...but a lovely early evening run around to Coddington and back. I figured I'd lose the light before getting back if I went out to Barnby

The runner casts a long shadow

Gorse in flower near the Barnby Lane crossroads

View from near the windmill, Coddington

A parallax of nature and construction, Beacon Hill Park

Currently a road to nowhere

Golden fields before industry

Sun setting over Beacon Hill Park

Bindweed and fuschia close to home

Owls in Newark Today

Kilton raptor rescue visited the town centre, in Halloween get up, and brought some beautiful raptors once again for us to enjoy.

Today's birds were mainly owls, and a glorious collection they were too.

Some form of long eared owl, I think

Tawny owl?

OK, I'm not an owl. I'm a buzzard

Grey scopps owl. Don't touch his mouse

Barn owl

Great grey owl, with his dish face enhancing hearing, he can hear a mouse's heartbeat

Snowy owl

From Nowhere came the Newark Sun

This morning was just beautiful. I woke to a glacier blue clear sky, and trees rustling with the wind. I figured it would be chilly - it was pre 9am - and got my windproof jacket on.

Within 5 minutes of running, I was sweltered and had to tie the wretched thing around my waist like a playground urchin.

It was beautiful. I did the tour of the two lakes before heading to the sconce for tea. It was so warm, red admirals and peacocks were flying, and under the Trent bridge, I was delighted to encounter a migrant hawker.

I tried fruitlessly to get it to alight on my finger. Naive, and pointless.

I think today was all about the light. A low sun makes for beautiful images.

Sun dappled cemetery

The path ahead

Hello Mr squirrel

Sunlit Balderton Lake

Stunning colours on the N64 cycle path

Marina bridge

Very tired red tailed bumblebee queen. Note the mite

Watched from across the Devon

Honey bees were out on the library lavender

Sun worshipping harlequin ladybird

The Autumn Colours of Beacon Hill Reserve

My run today took me through a Beacon Hill park that has changed colour. No more purple thistle and scabious, pink and violet buddleia, or ghostly yellow lady's bedstraw.

It is the time for red gold and green; not Karma Chameleons or Rastafarians, but berries, leaves and lush grass. Autumn is well upon us, but beauty is still found.

Cheeky garden primrose

Greens and browns

A richness of berries

Old thistle

Woodland path

Reclaimed by nature

Old man's beard

My Adventure Run to Kelham Hill

In my off-shifts these days I always like to have an adventure or two if I can. Today it was either a run up Kelham Hill, or a run around the River Witham at Barnby.

It was a late decision. I only made it as I left my house and turned left instead of right.

The run to Kelham is a dreary slog along a road under repair. The stench of tar was clogging my nose and the pitch blackened the soles of my shoes. It was a relief to get to the village and head out the back past the old post office with its charming ghost signage.

The route passes the I'll fated turn off for Southwell , it's just after that that the road curves round and begins to go up. Its gradual for a few metres, but it quickly kicks up to 15 percent plus.




It carries on like this for about 800m before flattening out at Kelham Hill farm.






Seagulls and crows rode the breeze up here, and small groups of starling were making a tentative attempt to murmurate. I went a little way further, but after 7km I turned round, disappointed in the lack of good views, and fieldfare or redwing in the fields.






Hills are so much easier to go down, no?

Eventually I turned off on to a bridleway at the back of Kelham, finding a little pond with a bird screen. All new territory for me. This is the point of the adventure!









I ran back through the village, split secondly tempted by the idea of a pint at The Fox before taking to the ugly path that heads for the sugar factory.

The path may have been ugly, but the buzzard watching me from a post was not, and keeping its distance ahead of me, a kestrel hunted along the field margins, bladed wings diverting the cutting wind around themselves. The kestrel makes flying look easy even on the worst of days; it's supreme control and speed must be the envy of all feathered friends.

All this, under skies straight from a Turner painting.