The Colour of the Weather Girl

I notice that a schoolfriend - well I doubt that, I doubt she ever said more than two words to me in seven years - is now back presenting the news on East Midlands Today after being relegated to early morning weather-girling. You can see her at lunchtimes, although the “lovely” Ann Davis still holds court in the evenings, sticking pins in dolls of Kylie Pentelow while wearing twelve different outfits a week.

At school, that girl was the elite of elites, one of a group of about four who only communicated with the socially connected in crowd and who dressed as Greek Goddesses to a school disco once and carried it off as if Athena and Aphrodite themselves were in our presence.

To them I was satanic spittle on the floor, I suspect.

(I was dressed as Woody Allen dressed as a robot in his movie “Sleeper”.  Suited me.)

She was a blue girl I think, was The Weathergirl. Our school was divided into four houses, named after famous stately homes, with corresponding coloured jerseys all rendered a brown sludge irrespective of origin during house rugby matches.

Weathergirl was in Clumber, the blue house, if I remember right. To my memory, this is where all the posh kids, sons of daughters of school governors and prominent townsfolk ended up. Rufford was green, and was the sporty house that always won at school sport’s days APART FROM WHEN THE CRICKET TEAM I CAPTAINED MURDERED YOU BY TEN WICKETS!

Welbeck was yellow, and had major problems with obesity. They were the worst at everything. They were paired with us in lessons. Us being Thoresby, the house of crimson. We were weirdoes. Well I know was, but I wasn’t alone. We were the bohemians, us Thoresby types, with generally the coolest musical taste. We were geeks before geeks were cool, nerds before nerds were a thing. We were goths, New York Warholians, Civil War pipe smoking heroes and bespectacled geniuses.

We were (I was) despised, and ourselves and Welbeck were kept well apart from the Clumber and Rufford heroes. Different classes. Different form rooms, I swear to god they were in the nicer parts of the school. Prettier girls. Better looking boys. Richer parents.

But we in Thoresby, we were The Big Bang Theory before it ever existed!

In retrospect, we rule! With hindsight, we conquer!

Si

All text copyright CreamCrackeredNature 22.01.16

Reflections on a Run

As I said, it was a superb day yesterday that even with cold temperatures, it was hard to stay indoors.

My final activity of the day was a gentle 7 km run taking in the two lakes, and by heaven they both looked beautiful. The air was so peaceful and the waters so still  that they sky was able to paint itself upon the water. I ran around, not worried about pace, taking plenty of photo-stops to record the colours.

The birds on view were the usual ones, just the geese and ducks, gulls still upon the smooth surface, reduced to dots by the salmon gold sky. The town was looking its best. The sun said goodbye to the day while I ran, replaced by an easy twilight.

A skein of canada geese flew overhead. The roost called them home as I arrived back at my flat. A robin flitted on the sycamore, and the sparrow's chatter was silenced.

Si

All text and images copyright CreamCrackeredNature 21.01.16

The cemetery in a lowering sun

The new sports centre

The moon under water

The Blue Lake looking south

A grebe in the clouds

A golden view

A coot before the reeds

The Treecreeper in the Old Wood

For most of the day today, I was barely in the house, despite the lies my new fitness band seems to be telling me about my activity levels. I had a run late on as the sun set, producing a beautiful golden-pink sky reflected into the mirror surfaces of the two lakes. I had a little cycle around too, looking for goosander and pochard.

But earlier than that, I was down at Sconce and Devon Park for a cup of tea and a walk and of course a spot of photography.

I wandered first alongside the River DEvon, staring into the tops of the alder trees that line the water's edge. So many people have been posting pictures of redpoll and siskin in alder trees lately, I was hoping to see one of these attractive finches for myself; either would be one of those "lifers" proper birdwatchers are always going on about.

Typically of course, I had no joy.

So it was into the the sun streamed old wood, with its monstrous tall oaks and ground cover of leaf litter for the blackbirds to vandalise. There were lots of birds to be heard, with the repitivive "deeee-dooo" of the great tit the most prominent, but they weren't pausing to pose. Luckily, as I was scanning the trees, a flickering movement on a bough drew my attention to a small scuttling bird making its way rapidly along the limb. It was of course a treecreeper, a busy little bird with a long curved beak for picking out insects from tree bark, and a stiff, almost clawed tail that helps it climb trees.

I'd seen one before, on exactly the same tree, a few weeks ago but had been unable to get a shot of it. Today, with better light, I was rather more successful.

Enjoy the shots!

Si

All text and images copyright CreamCrackeredNature 20.01.16

Running through a Birdstorm

I managed to get out in reasonable time today, and thus had the opportunity to hit the trails to have a really good, long run and see what was about.

I had a hunch that the cold weather - down to -3 or so last night - might have brought a few birds into town and the surrounding countryside, and so it proved. Two kilometres in I was running along the field at the back of Grange Road, and I flushed out a flock of small birds from the hedgerow on my right. These turned out to be reed buntings, a long way from any water and certainly not where I'd seen any before.

A little further along, a flock of winter thrushes emerged from the taller trees in front of me. They didn't hang around and the light was very poor, but I couldn't spot any white undersides so figured them for redwing, my first of the season.

There were plenty of finches about too, chaffinch in the main.

I slogged through the mud until I reached Hawton Village, where I saw a large flock of birds settle into the tall trees next to the church. Starling again, making a tremendous racket as they had done when I had found them in a different stand of trees nearby. I'm guessing there was perhaps 500 of them, and why they had paused in those particular trees to have  screaming match with each other I had no idea. Perhaps they were imparting the latest gossip to each other.

I kept on plodding, steely skies luckily not dropping any rain on me. There is a large field where I've spotted fieldfare before on the Hawton-Farndon road, I knew they's be there today, and I wasn't wrong, with about 100 birds joined by another small flock as I watched, their slate grey rumps being the main identifier as they hopped about on the ground.

Another first for the season!

Eventually I squelched along the river to finish off my ten miles, and came across a huge flock of chaffinch and goldfinch in what will be one of the buttercup meadows in a few months time.

So as ever, the cold brings out the birds. Too bad my camera batteries were flat. Gah.

Si

All text and images copyright CreamCrackeredNature 19.01.16

Starlings gather

Hundreds in this tree

The fieldfare field

Farndon colour

Farndon church

Love this graveyard

Robin on the river

Proper running conditions

Power station

Swan

Reflections

Boats

New bark on the Old Oak Wood path

Sauntering Acycle round The Blue Lake

Slightly lazy today, a gentle run was scheduled, but replaced with a gentle cycle because I wanted to watch the original Clash of the Titans DVD. Jolly worth it too, it's a great movie.

I was hoping to get some shots of the cycle path kingfisher, or perhaps a goosander or pochard now the weather has turned for the colder, but I was out of luck. However, a first winter great crested grebe obliged me with some great preening and posing close to shore, and the tufted ducks were looking immaculate as normal.

But because I didn't exercise enough, I was only allowed a salad for my dinner!

Si

All text and images copyright CreamCrackeredNature 18.01.16

What is this thing "Winter"?

Found it snowing on me when I headed down to the Prince Rupert for a quiet pint and a read last night. So many tweets saying "OH MY GOD IT'S SNOWING" as if the appearance of solid rain initiates a quantum effect that simultaneously reduces everyone to the age of 7.

Me I dread snow. Not for my outside life, but for the effect it has on my commute to work i.e. makes it bloody dangerous. 2010-12 we had winters that featured heavy snow followed by a long freeze; the resulting ice made it really tricky to cycle. My hands also suffer terribly in freezing weather when I cycle, no glove on earth prevents severe pain in my hands.

I think this is what they call Reynaud's Syndrome.

Anyway, this is the calamitous result of the wintry showers last night.

Winter what winter?! I love having my cocktails outside while seeing if the stars are going to come out to play. Pina Coladas are the best, I find.

So today I got out for a run late, with the skies far too dark for photography. However, around Balderton Blue Lake, where the tufted ducks swim like immaculately painted battleship flotillas, I startled out another kingfisher from a waterside tree!

This is about 2km from where I usually spot a kingfisher on the cycle path, so no idea if it's the same bird. It may be, as ice has formed on the drain down there, and it might have had to move in order to fish.

It was almost dark, but the bird's blue back was still starlight bright as it flew off with those typical hummingbird fast wingbeats and stunted tail. Such a joy to spot it in the gloom.

I may have had no camera, but at least I have a memory.

Si

All text and images copyright CreamCrackeredNature 17.01.16

Comet Catilina Fail!

After watching Stargazing Live - it is understandable given the adventures of Tim Peak, but not enough stars, too much hardware - I was inspired to have a little look for Comet Catilina, traversing space near Alkaid, the end star of the "Plough" part of Ursa Major.

It's been far too long since I've tried any astronomical observing with my binoculars, and was thus stricken with tremoring goggle eyes that got tired really really quickly, and also a degree of unsteadiness that made the simple task of focussing on a star and holding it vaguely near the centre of the field of view absolutely impossible.

Throw in subzero temperatures, and the realisation I had to be up for work in the morning, and it was an comet hunt under pressure.

I warmed up by having a quick scoot round Orion and Auriga, picking out old friends like the Great Nebula in Orion and the three Messier star clusters to be found in Auriga, before I headed to the other end of the drive in an optimum position to be drowned out by streetlamps and Polish bedroom illumination as little as possible.

So, my immediate sweeps around the tail of the Great Bear revealed nothing but faint stars and a slightly hazy darkness. But I persisted, and eventually found a fuzzy glow near a triangle of dim stars. "Huzzah!" I thought, until I realised that my 10x50s were still a fraction out of focus. A twiddle or two revealed a perfectly ordinary star.

Then I scanned a little further afield, and yes, there it really really was! A small fuzzy ball of coma with no tail visible. Well, it at magnitude 7 it was hardly ever going to be another Hale-Bopp. I went to bed thrilled with my discovery, only to realise on consulting a star map that I'd actually been looking at the galaxy Messier 101.

Grrrrrr!

The comet was actually much closer to Alkaid, where I'd already looked. I'm mystified as to how I could have spotted the galaxy and not the comet, only that it was slightly higher in the midnight sky and thus perhaps above the haze line.

If I get clear skies away from a moon, I will try again in the next couple of nights.

Really must get back in astro practice!

Si

All text copyright CreamCrackeredNature 16.01.16