The current view is not as nice, but that is why I take pictures.
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We cannot expect every day to be spectacular, after all.
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A long bank of cloud impressed me the other day as we drove to Schuylerville.
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It appeared to drift just above the trees.
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Enchantingly enhancing the landscape.
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Oh, to lie in there bouncing clouds on your feet!
It reminds me of childhood visits to Grandma when we walked through fields in Wiltshire. We gathered wild mushrooms the like of which I’ve never tasted since.
On Urchfont Hill we had to check for the red flag which indicated that the Army was conducting target practice causing us to alter our route.
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We also picked cowslips which grew abundantly and Grandma liked water from a spring in the woods. Judy, the wire-haired terrier, dug up moles and had to be persuaded not to bark at cows that once took exception to her insults and chased us. Is it a wonder they frightened me?
Myxomatosis had sadly killed off most of the rabbits in those days.
Grandpa, my father’s father, lived in the opposite direction, in Sussex where the terrain was a little different. We walked on the Downs without having to watch for red flags or cows. I was told there were adders, but I never saw one, fortunately.
When I was little, Grandpa had a house with a big garden and I seem to remember that there were still red squirrels in those days, before they were killed off by greys. I was very young and those days are but faint memories.
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Red squirrels here are very different. They are Tamiasciurus hudsonicus, or Adirondack red squirrels and though they are very cute, they are stroppy little beasts.
They regularly chase off the much bigger greys and spend a good deal of energy scolding each other as well. From the sound of it, they are quite impolite!
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“I play a tune for you, missus.”
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The greys are entertaining but they are not exactly mild-mannered either!
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Grant noticed recently that the catbirds were feasting on bits of suet that fall from the feeders as woodpeckers and starlings hammer at the block.
So he decided to offer them a whole plate of crumble…
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It went down awfully well.
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“Thanks, peoples. I let you take my picture now.”
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We have never enjoyed more than a quick look at these birds before.
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Now we have a visiting pair.
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It is a very neat little bird.
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Very elegant.
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With subtle, under-stated colouring.
Like a posh business suit.
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Thank you, Carolyn, for the wonderful photos of the landscapes, the clouds, the many wildlife creatures, some even playing the carrot flute, and the posh birds enjoying suet crumble. All pictures unmissable!
Joanna
I enjoy those childhood memories of yours, Carolyn. I had never seen an Adder until I moved to Beetley. They are numerous around here, and I have now seen many over the years when out walking with Ollie. The baby ones are the most dangerous, because if they bite you they use all of their venom instead of measuring the ‘dose’. Generally, they are shy, and will slither off if you get close to them.
Best wishes, Pete.
Your first photo of that early morning sunrise is beautiful – the dark trees and then the light colours in the background are striking. And I also like the series of photos of the squirrel – you’re very creative with your narrative 😁. And the posing catbird – how wonderful to see them up close.
I loved the cowslips in Somerset – my grandmother’s favorites!
Those pictures of the catbirds are spectacular! I fear our catbirds might have moved elsewhere, since the bush they nested in has been cut down. I head a catbird a couple of weeks ago, but have not seen one yet this year.
Posh birds. That’s funny. I’ve been told my accent is rather posh.
Do you still have a Brit accent?
That is a good question. I would like to challenge one of those people who profess to be able to determine where anyone comes from. In England I am thought to be American or perhaps Canadian. Here I am taken for British/Australian/New Zealander because many don’t know the difference. I live with a South African, spent time in the West Indies and have worked and lived among people from all over, so who knows what I sound like. I think it depends whose company I am in. The not-so-holy sister superior in Kep told me disdainfully that I spoke good French “but not with a Parisian accent”, so I guess she meant not posh. (That woman lived to be 116!)
I agree, it depends who you talk to. If I’m with Americans I speak “Murrikan”. With the Brits, I revert to a Brit accent.
Ans South African depends if Anglo of Afrikaner. 😉
116… Wow. Wasn’t there a Beatles song that said “Mother superior drop the gun” or something like that?