Sitting Beats Running

Today I ran 8-9 miles, past the two lakes and all the way along Clay Lane and through Beacon Hill Nature reserve. It was a lovely day. But, I really didn't see much of any great interest.

This doesn't matter. Just being outside and active on a glorious late afternoon is something to be grateful for.

But today, the most interesting things I saw was when I was sat down, and not looking for them.

This morning, I was at the Millgate Museum cafe, a favourite place of mine to while away an hour. Something caught the sun, and sat twitching upon the glorious, rusting, British Waterways dredger barge was a gorgeous Grey Wagtail, black of neck, yellow of breast with a slate grey back. Apparently the black neck means the bird is a breeding male, on the hunt for pretty wagtail ladies. I wish it luck.

In the background, a cormorant shone blackly in the sun, circling round looking for a likely fishing spot upon the river.

Later, I sat in my garden reading, and spent the afternoon being blasted by this incredibly loud, repetitive two tone whistle. Looked everywhere for the source, but couldn't find it; in fact it mocked me with it's absence, seemingly echoing from the other buildings round my garden and moving from tree to tree. Where was it? No idea.

What was it? No idea! I'd like to think it was possibly a Chiffchaff, I listened to that call and it was definitely similar. Perhaps as ever I'm overkilling it. But it just goes to show.

Sometimes sitting is better than running.

Comet Garradd

After my busy day on bike and on foot yesterday, thought I'd have a little look for this comet in the vicinity of Ursa Minor and Draco last night - heard it was visible near the bottom end of URSA Minor so had a little look with my 10x50s - think I might have picked it up with averted vision as a misty patch with a noticeable tail at about 2 o clock from Kocab - Beta Ursa Minoris - and about the same distance away as gamma is from Kocab.

But my eyes weren't properly adapted and they may have been playing tricks as usual. Will keep an eye out, but I think it is going to be a difficult object under my skies with my 10x50s.

Kocab by the way, is a gorgeously orange star in the binocular view. Like a lollipop!

Probably because its name is a bit like Kojak.

First trip to Langford Lowfields 2012

Where is this sun coming from, I asked myself, non verbally, deep within my mind thing, as I got up this morning and tried to think of a constructive way to spend the day.

So I mounted my ailing bicycle, and headed out into what was still quite a chilly morning, and hoping I wasn't going to freeze when I got there. Couldn't have been more wrong. Glorious day. But the cycle path rather muddy and tacky though.

Armed with my new 10x50s, first thing I spotted was a Reed Bunting, the black capped and bearded male sat proudly in a small tree, the dowdier female a mite more shy in a bush. This was by the Dragonfly lake, which was well populated with Tufted Ducks.

More pairs of Reed Buntings were to be found in the rushes next to the next couple of small lakes, as a squadron of 4 swans passed overhead like Lancaster Bombers. More swans were to be found on the reed bed, radically different from my last visit, surrounded by honking and screeching Greylag and Canada Geese. One Greylag in particular was super comical, fighting off all comers, neck outstretched and honking in a totally ridiculous way.

I noticed that the RSPB bods had put up feeders by the hide, and although they were empty all manner of songbirds were eating the fall out from the floor. The binoculars revealed a flock of Tree Sparrows, unbelievably a new species for me, that's how crap I am, chestnut heads dipping up and down as they ate. As time progressed they were joined by Blue and Great Tits.

Eventually, in one binocular field of view under the feeders, I had Reed Buntings, Yellowhammers, Greenfinches - first I've seen for ages - Tree Sparrows and Blue and Great Tits. A star cluster! Only with birds.

And the day was not done with me yet. As I cycled home contending with a broken bike seat, I realised I wasn't the only one enjoying the sun. Brimstone butterflies were out for a sunbathe too. To say that I hardly saw any the whole of last year, and then today to see a fair few of them fluttering about in early march was rather surprising.

But then, what do I know. A whole lot of nothing, that's what!

Ladies and Gentlemen...Mercury!

The words of Captain Kaneda of the Icarus 2 were in my head, the beautiful music of the film Sunshine in my ears, and smack in front of me, floating on the top of a layer of jade green twilight, was planet Mercury.

The fact that given the window related shenanigans I had gone through to see it the night before, the fact I was watching it on my bike ride home from work seemed crazy.

It was about 3 and a half times the distance from Venus to Jupiter, and rather below an imaginary line connecting the two. It was about half a hand span above the horizon - say 8-10 degrees and plain as day, nothing anywhere near it in the sky.

It was a hell of a distraction as I cycled home, luckily it was still there visible through my bedroom window for a short while, sinking towards the cruel all swallowing horizon.

Can't belive I found it so easily after so long, although without the Venus Jupiter conjunction I think I would have struggled. But even at my ok not so collosal age, I'm glad I can still find new things to wonder at.

And I didn't share Kaneda's grim fate after he saw Mercury!

Multiple Astronomy Fails

I've spent the last few days utterly failing to see things.

A couple of nights ago, sat inside but every so often having a look at the sky...was I looking out at 940 or so when a once in a lifetime fireball as bright as the moon went over? Nope. I was watching some god knows what crap on TV and trying to write.

Great. Bloody great.

And then last night, my best chance to easily see Mercury? Nope! Not a chance. Everywhere I went or stood it would have been just below the rooftops or a bloody great tree was blocking the view from an upstairs bedroom. Grrrrr. Double grrr. And tonight, when I might have had a chance on my way home of finding a good vantage point up the hill, it was cloudy.

Sod it. I'm a rubbish astronomer.

Gone Fishing!

On a beautiful, if not particularly warm afternoon, well filled with tea and with some gloopy cheap isotonic drink to take with me, I set out on what I knew was going to be a longish run, through a cemetery carpeted with purple and white crocuses, with a few small daffodils now coming out. On the cycle path many blue tits were enjoying the weather.

Out by British Gypsum, noticed a few Fieldfares going over - in flight they always looks like they have black wings and white bodies.

I sort of followed the roads around, hoping perhaps to see a hardy early butterfly, until ventually I was going the other way down the cycling path past London Road lake. And here, among the trees at the bottom end was a first sighting for me on this lake of a cormorant!

The fishermen would love that I thought. To them Cormorants are Harold Shipman and the Yorkshire Ripper rolled into a feathery package.

As I watched he dived, and I stopped running to see where he would come up. A few seconds later, he reappeared with a nice Roach in his beak, glittering silver in the lowering light. And then, presumably having scared all the fish off, he noisily, splashily took off, and turned round to head for the river. I watched him till he was a long way off, but eventually I caught up with him again, down by the Castle.

Mr Cormorant, he doesnt do any discarding...

Yo! Vixen!

Well, it was probably a dog really...

As I arrived home last night, no stars to be seen apart from faint mars through a smoggy sulphurous haze so no chance to fail to spot Messier 3 or Messier 5 with my binoculars and feel like a failed astronomer again.

As I went through my creaky gate, I was aware of movement behind me. Thinking it would be another cat, I turned and lo and behold there was a smallish and somewhat thin looking fox trotting up my driveway after me. Hungry, perhaps looking for food to strengthen up for a howling breeding season, it looked this way and that, before seeing me lurking in the shadows, or more likely smelling evil human as a faint breeze whispered from the south.

And then it was gone, padding back the way it had come, and across the road to raid someone elses dustbin...