An Evening Cycle to Farndon Ferry

I've been cooped up at work. I haven't been able to run thanks to the mass of groin and abdominal strains cricket has blessed upon me. I feel tubby, chubby and generally lumpy. So even after my shift, I had to get out.

I cycled on a fine, if slightly cloudy evening, 12km via Hawton and Farndon, where swallows flew and fly grazers were this time nailing their horses to the sweet grass beside the A46 flyover between the two villages.

The ferry was busy with dog walkers, drinkers, and even water-skiiers on the distant silvery river. The power station did power things between the wind and water. All seemed pretty fair and good with the world.

Si

The Crusader. Pleasure boat for aged and disabled

Tosh at anchor. Or is it Tash? Hmmmm.

Dutch barge across the river

A mixed bouquet

Comfrey beginning to open

Common carder bumble hides in the nettles

Mighty horse chestnut

A Return to Astronomy!

It seems like so long since I had a proper observing sessions outside with my 10x50s, so even though I had an early start today, a crisp clear sky last night was so tempting that I risked sandpapered eyes to do some astronomy.

Astronomy with company at that, for as I craned my neck skywards, a hedgehog was snuffling invisibly, but loudly, through leaf litter and undergrowth as it hunted for invertebrate treats.

Above, the sky was panther dark and studded with stellar gemstones; the topaz Arcturus, pale sapphire Vega, setting citrine Capella, and the blood ruby of Antares, the heart of the Scorpion low in the South.

But it is only when you turn the binoculars on the sky that the true magic appears. Even at this early stage of summer when it is low in the sky, the Milky Way in Cygnus forms a tumbling river of stars waterfalling down into the North. There is the faint constellation of Coma Berenices, an echelon of faint celestial geese chasing Leo the Lion down into the West.

And then there are the globular clusters, smudgy and grey in binoculars - I observed Messier 3, 5 and 13 last night - but even a small telescope resolves them into glittering balls of stars.

Then when you turn the Hubble onto them, you see this...

Si

Messier 13, courtesy of NASA/ESA/Hubble

Well, my Tourette's Really got to Someone at Work

Last week, someone made a complaint about my behaviour at work.

What could it have been? My stressed obscenity yelling and flailing gotten too much for the management? Have I wasted too much time making sure my hands are germ free in the bathroom? Is my clumsiness meaning I do my job too slowly?

Apparently not.

It seems, I was...sort of...scaring someone. Immediately behind me, sits a chap who gets around by motability scooter a lot of the time, although he can walk ok over short distances. I don't know the cause of his disability, but I know he has been mugged twice. He told me this.

He told me this when he asked me not to basically tic behind him, or move too close behind him. He said his reaction to people who come up behind him and startle him thus is to hit them. Now one of the things I do at work sometimes is to automatically jump up from my desk, and take a few paces back sometimes, sometimes a bit of a trot up and down, a bit of a wave, a bit of a cricket bowl at imaginary things.

A lot of the time I'm barely aware I'm starting to do it. I just DO. I apologised and said there was no intent to it, this happened twice. The third time, he went to my immediate supervisor, who took me out back for a quiet chat.

He was totally understanding, said he knew I did things without realising, but could I please try and realise and not do stuff too near this other fellow. I said of course I would, if I did realise, and I would move away from him. He then said if he did hit me, as he'd obviously told my supervisor might happen, it might lead to very unpleasant disciplinary procedures for him.

I told him I wouldn't "press charges" as it were if it did happen, but I was told company policy would have over-ruled me. So basically, if you are going to tic, go and tic somewhere else if at all possible.

Like I said, I said I would if I could, but sometimes it's such an automated action it just happens. I myself hate being touched unexpectedly, and in fact am probably even jumpier than he is. I don't criticise him. But I get mighty puzzled when I see him standing talking to a manager with his back to a busy doorway, where people were walking through rather closer than I was.

An office re-arrangement at work has now had the good fortune of separating us. But I am very curious as to how on earth this situation would have played out. Because I wouldn't have been able to stop myself for long, and ergo the promised punch would have arrived at some point.

I think I forget how intimidating Tourette's can perhaps be. It isn't cute. It can't be cured by swimming with dolphins or going on a once in a lifetime rip to Disneyland. I can imagine a 6'1 85 kilo man in a frenzy can be quite scary, especially when the attractive snarls and yells are thrown in. I can be lungey, and disrespectful of personal space, which is a copper bottomed irony.

But, it is me, and without it I wouldn't be me any more. Was he being oversensitive? Was I?

Si

Enter the Tree Bumblebees

I was walking today, the toll of cricket injuries now reading at a double groin strain, double thigh strain, slight back strain and a colosally bruised ankle. And we got hammered again, for my pains. 

So, a few days of recuperation required before doing it all again next weekend.

Walking may feel a bit slow to a runner such as myself, but you do actually get to see a little more, and it hurts a lot less. This morning - just - I headed off to Sconce Park, via the house martin nests near my home to see if anyone was at home. Only a solitary white rumped little bird was flying about, but I've seen more at other times.

As I walked through the hospital grounds, I noticed that there were ceonothus bushes in flower. Now, my folks have one of these, and it is late every year without fail, but these ones by the hospital were covered in their very sickly sweet smelling, cloudlike clusters of blue flowers. On closer inspection, what I was hoping to find where indeed there.

Tree bumblebees.

Tree bumblebees to me seem to arrive a little later than our native species, perhaps being a recent arrival from the continent they need warmer temperatures and longer days to be active. They have a very russet coloured back, much stronger than the common carder bees which can look similar at a brief glance. I always associate them with ceonothus, the family one will be literally buzzing with them when it flowers.

These weren't the only interesting bees I saw today however. Down in Devon Pasture, I was inspecting the new ponds they are digging but have yet to fill. I noticed movement in the not quite mud at the bottom, to find that there were colonies of mining bees flying in and out of little burrows. Some were the suddenly familiar golden-red coloured tawny mining bees, but others were much yellower and nearer to honey bees in hue. They were a swine to photograph, and my efforts cost me a nice collection of nettle stings on my backside. But I got a couple of useful shots, as you will see.

As yet, the swallows are not making their low level strafing runs across the park. I excitedly await this wonderful sight.

Si

Pretty little weed on a wall

House martin nests

Heavily laden tree bumblebee

Ceonothus clearly pollen rich

Still busy

White tailed worker

Park side entrance

Chaffinch

Not sure what this is, it is new out, and I'm not sure I've ever noticed it in the park before

Buttercups

The old wood

Native bluebells

Mining bee

Mining bee burrowing

Hoverfly

Marsh marigold?

These signs had me curious

Apparently it was "Doggie Fun Day" in the park

A Sad Sight on Clay Lane

All my muscles seem like they've been afflicted with rigor mortis, so it was a very slow and sore 9km run I managed to drag out of myself today. How many of my articles seem to start like this these days...

Well I'm not bloody Mo Farah so what do you expect? I'm a fair bit older, and I don't stuff myself with magic Quorn like he does.

After the recent chilly spell, butterflies were back out today as I ran along Clay Lane and through the various nature reserves. Small tortoiseshells seem to be in between flights at the moment, but there were orange tip, speckled wood, small white and a lovely holly blue flitting along a hedgerow.

A lot less beautiful, and an infinitely large amount sadder, was what I saw taking place on Clay Lane park as I ran past. I've mentioned the problem of abandoned and fly grazed horses before on this blog, but I never caught anyone in the act.

Well today I did. Three or four traveller lads had driven over a couple of horses IN A VAN to the public park, and while one horse was tethered by the vehicle, the others were busy using a fairly short chain to attach a piebald cob to a metal stake in the ground.

It was clearly very unhappy at this, as the poor horse was whinnying for all it was worth. It probably knew it had no shelter from the weather whatsoever, and wouldn't perhaps get fed and watered as often as it should. It's an increasing problem in this town and the country in general; everyone knows who is doing it but this is never openly discussed.

Councils are talking about doing something about the problem, and indeed our one has put a few notices up, but to what end? The horses will be confiscated and sold apparently, in a market where their value has slumped to a fiver each, and has driven the number of abandonments in the first place. One suspects a dismal fate awaits them.

It is very sad.

Si

Horse being fly grazed

Clay Lane dapple green

Beetles on cow parsley

And a froghopper too!

Not sure. Seems a little tall for ground ivy

What do we have here? Small or green veined white?

Tatty speckled wood

Hawthorn blossom

The forgotten nature reserve

Red campion now plentiful

I love this...take a pic at low level, it's like Willie Wonka's Chocolate Factory

What time is it? Any of you guys know?

Gypsy cuckoo on the prowl

That Polish Touch

My new neighbours in the other upstairs flat are a Polish couple; he a builder and plasterer, she a I have no idea what.

One thing she does do, is garden like a maniac. Not just outside either, you can see in their windows that every inch of space inside the flat has a pot plant or hanging basket in it.

My Polish colleague at work told me that this a very Polish thing to do.

I'm hoping her efforts will bring in lots of bees and butterflies on warm days, but no sign so far, although her rather elaborate bird table arrangement has had a fair few customers. I'll even forgive the act of barbaric pruning she did on the holly tree to allow her plants a bit more light.

Now tell me who I'd rather live next door to? This lovely plant loving Polish couple, or a foreigner hating, UKIP voting, wife beater vest wearing stereotype who spends his days hard at work collecting fridges for scrap in his dangerously clapped out flatbed truck, before dumping the carcasses out in the country?

I'll give you a clue if you are finding it difficult.

Si

A Savage Cycle Ride to Elston

After last night's fairly gentle trip round town on an evening as bright as chrome, today's ride was a far more wild affair under cirrhotic looking yellow-grey clouds with a strong wind blowing.

This was te first ride of 2015 on my standard cycling route, a 15 mile tour out along the Sustrans 64 to Votham, and then across to (nearly) Elston, before coming back home through Thorpe. Only today I thought I'd divert through Thorpe proper and come home along the old A46, a rather safer proposition since the bypass was built.

Elston is rarity nowadays; it's a small village that has managed to keep hold of its pub, although it took a residents buy out to be able to keep it open. I've never been to it though, Elston is 5 miles out which is a bit too much for a tipsy walk home! The village is dominated by yet another All Saints Church, with its pretty slim tower, and the former Elston Hall that nowadays functions as a huge spa for my most hated of words - "Pamperings". The thought of other people touching my nails gives me utter utter creeps.

Strangely, most of my cycling thoughts were memories of watching greyhounds racing over the fells, prompted by hearing it on "Open Country" on Radio 4. My grandparents took me, in Grandad's red Ford Escort 1.1, up to a stone circle up in the Cumbrian fells somewhere, it may have been the famous Castlerigg circle but I really can't remember as we are going back to about 1978 here!

The dogs came hurtling up the hill from the West, with us spectators kept a little way back from the route as some skulduggerous types had been baiting some of the dogs with meat to give their own hounds a better chance of winning. Given that these trail races can be 10 miles long or more up and down steep slopes, I don't blame the dogs for stopping for a snack.

In the way of the Tour De France, the "Dogeton" was through in seconds, and we drove back down the hill towards the silver ball at Sellafield and home in Egremont, a town that has joined Hungerford and Dunblane these days in having an unwanted fame.

Si

Surveryors marking out a new A1 turn-off. Great.

Speedwell on the Sustrans 64

Ground ivy

White dead nettle

Cowslips at their best at the Cotham turnoff

The upper reaches of the Devon, teeming with small fish but none of the big barbel you sometimes see spawning here

Elston mill

Oilseed rape next to the mill

All  Saints church, Elston

The East Stoke reach of the Trent, beyond feral oilseeed rape