Nature in Unexpected Places

Tuesday evening, means that its shopping evening. Ho hum, wasn’t expecting to see much wildlife round Tesco’s on a dark, damp November evening, so I was somewhat surprised to find a cheeky Robin, staring me in the face and chirping somewhat manically while I was wandering down the veggie isle.

The Robin seemed to have set up residence at the end of one of the vegetable isles, where many perches were to be found, from which to talk or maybe rage at the world. This bird seemed not to be that bothered by the passing shoppers, regularly picking perches, close to the shoppers wanderings including passing shopping trolleys that were stationary for too long. If the Robin was raging at the world, then I’m not sure that the bird’s presence was much to the liking of all the customers either, from the various looks of horror on some of the faces. I suspected that the shoppers wished to rage at the bird to, for invading their safe sterile environment.

Robin – 27 November 2012 (Copyright Ross Lockley)

A recurring theme for the Robin was the annoying presence of its reflection in a mirror at the end of a display. The Robin would regularly display at this imaginary bird and when this wasn’t enough to see the competition off, the bird would then attack this reflection for a couple of furious seconds. The territorial nature of Robins is well known and their hatred of their own reflection has regularly been reported, but it is something that I have never actually seen in reality. Though important to the bird it is but a futile activity that will never see a winner.

Lost In A Moment

Still limited to light duties, I was looking at the world out of the window again, this time at the passing clouds. Observing clouds reminds me of long hot summer days, lying on the grass and making pictures of them as they passed by. Today was no different, apart from the weather and the temperature, but still there is this fascination of attempting to make shapes and pictures as they pass.

Today it was that of a jolly giant’s face, to me it definitely had a distinctive eye and a darker eyebrow, below which was highlighted a cheek, it was almost possible to  see it as being bright red cheek, then there was a large chuckling mouth. But with all cloud pictures some of it was left to the imagination for there was no nose and no chin. Then within seconds the face itself had departed into the whorl of cloud, nothing but an ephemeral image.

Clouds can also mean the possibility of showers, and as suddenly as the face appeared in the cloud and was gone, there also came a shower of rain and with it an amazingly bright rainbow. Easily showing all seven colours and rapidly arcing round to produce a hundred and eighty degree arc, but in the minute it took to get the camera and out to take a picture. The rain had stopped and the rainbow was fading rapidly away to nothing.

Rapidly Fading Rainbow – 17 November 2012 (Copyright Carol Jones)

Such are the ephemeral nature of clouds and rainbows. – Grab the images while you can, for they are here but for a moment and then gone the next.

Fly By

As the Lost Naturalist is confined to light duties for a while with a crooked ankle, I’d taken up position looking out of the window, at the changing of the seasons in the valley. Opposite the Larch trees are now a beautiful straw colour, that shone out against the surroundings, even though the day has been one of dull greyness. They shone as though with an luminescence of their own, against the remaining greens of the surrounding fields and the darker Spruces behind.

Looking South Along Touting Birks Hill, On A Much Brighter Day – 30 January 2010 (Copyright Carol Jones)

Within the garden the birds were busy. There was a Robin taking pride of place on the very top of the bird table trying to lord it over all, while below Blue Tits and Coal Tits squabbled over the peanuts and fat balls. Out on the grass was a Blackbird, picking amongst the leaves, looking like he had had an argument in a paint shop, as he was speckled with white, with one large blob of white on the back of his neck and at this time of year it made him look rather tatty. Closer to the house, a small Wren picked energetically at insects amongst the pots of Pansies, scattering compost and leaves all over the place.

Then to complete the picture, like a Hercules making a regal fly by, there flew up the valley, the slow but magnificent form of a Mute Swan. Each beat of its wings, pushing large quantities of air out of the way, as it slowly but consistently moved onwards. Wow! They are totally amazing, large and almost lumbering but somehow also magnificent and in the air also with a certain amount of grace.

From Out of Darkness

This is the third and final blog entry from the last weekend in October – taken from Sunday 28 October 2012.

From days of bright sunshine and clear blue skies, the weather broke on Sunday. The clouds sat low in the landscape, hiding all but the lower slopes of the surrounding hills. The greyness hid all those hummocks and hollows that the sunshine had brought to life; that had made the landscape three dimensional in nature. Now with the clouds sitting so low, and the light so grey and flat the distant views, where not lost from sight in the swirling clouds, have become much flatter, and two dimensional in nature.

 

Over Looking Malham Tarn, Tarn Moss, with Great Close Hill in the Distance – 28 October 2012 (Copyright Carol Jones)

Not all in this landscape has lost its shape, form or highlight, for even though the light is flat and bland, the autumn oranges and browns still highlight and radiate remnant memories of the summers warmth. They produce a warmth in what has become cold and grey, and add depth to what tries so hard to become flat and lifeless. In some places they also take over and dominate, such as within swards of Purple Moor-grass, which have now been turned a rich warm orange by the shortening days and dropping temperatures.

Carpets of Purple Moor-grass – 28 October 2012 (Copyright Ross Lockley)

Scars of Times Past

This is the second of three blog entries from last weekend – taken from Saturday 27 October 2012.

Being in a landscape that has been shaped by the work of ancient glaciers is amazing especially in autumn, when the sun is shining and very low in the sky, so that all the hummocks and hollows are accentuated. The Yorkshire Dales is the perfect place for this and last Saturday was also the perfect time, as the skies were clear, the was sun shining and the autumn colours were amazingly bright and warm, even if the temperature wasn’t.

The landscape around the Yorkshire Dales have been scraped and furrowed by the passing glaciers of the last ice age, around 300 million years ago, producing towering crags, shadowy peaks, limestone pavements and deep valleys. One of my favourite places to see the grating effects of the passing glaciers is at Yew Cogar Scar, where even when the light isn’t quite perfect, long scrape lines can be seen highlighted in the early afternoon shadows and grey patches of bare limestone rock. I’m never sure whether its the geology of this place that fascinates me or the remnant of the hanging Yew wood that clings precariously to the edges of the scar, away from the continuous nibbling of the local sheep. Those remaining Yew trees, make the occasional dark green blob, still fresh against the browning greens of the dying grasses.

Yew Cogar Scar – 27 October 2012 (Copyright Carol Jones)

Another, definately more impressive view is that of Pen-y-Ghent, sometimes known as the Sleeping Lion. Here unlike Yew Cogar Scar where the scar lines run along the valley. At Pen-y-Ghent the errosion lines run down the mountain. These erosion shadows highlight the layers of different rock types, and so throw new shadows outwards. Then to complete the contrasts of the mountain come a warm orange foreground of Purple Moor-grass, accompanied by the varying autumn greens of the surrounding grass moor.

Pen-y-Ghent – 27 October 2012 (Copyright Carol Jones)