My World In Photos And Words

Chaffinches On Mass

2010-07-10T17:11:00.002+01:00

The Chaffinches are visiting on mass again now, with plenty of the youngsters eating me out of house and home. They tend to take the food from the ground rather than battle it out for access to the feeders, though they have been generous enough to pose on the odd occasion for me! :-)

Thanks to everyone for your comments and input. I am still WAY behind on reading peoples blogs: it seems that while I had a lull, everyone else became particularly active, leaving me with over 600 blog posts to catch up on. It might take me some time to get through them all!! :-)

Leave Me Alone!

2010-07-08T06:23:00.001+01:00

Considering the number of adult Goldfinches visiting, so far I have had very few youngsters, but that appears to be changing if today is anything to go by. This mother was being harassed by three youngsters who were adamant that they wanted Mummy to carry on with the feeding. I got the distinct impression that if birds could talk this mother would be saying "Will you **** off and find your own meal!" These youngsters had obviously reached the "teenage" stage when motherhood can become decidedly difficult!! :-)

Too Much Of A Good Thing?

2010-07-07T07:05:00.000+01:00

I love seeing the Siskins and the Golfinches, I really do, but they can be a little overpowering: they have completely taken over the feeders and little else gets a look in. I have tried positioning a feeder right next to the house for the more timid Blue Tits and Great Tits, but the Greenfinches decided that they would take over that one, thus once again leaving these diminutive Tits, my original 'Garden' birds, out in the cold. When I first got a decent DSLR the Tits were the mainstay of my photography, though my ability to use the camera well was lacking, so I got few really good shots. Now that I have the photographic ability, I don't have the birds, and I miss their acrobatic presence. In the winter I use fat balls which the Tits enjoy, but I am reluctant to use those in the summer in case they go rancid in the heat. Does anyone else use fat balls in the summer? I would be interested to hear of your experiences of using them?

Though the Siskins are smaller than the Sparrows they still bully them:

"Get away, you! Get away! This is my feeder!"

Blogger seems to be on the blink again with disappearing comments. :-( Apologies if you posted and one and it didn't appear. I did moderate them but then they vanished.

Found The Ringer!

2010-07-06T10:22:00.000+01:00

Last night I was contacted by someone that has been doing some ringing in my area. On searching some of the photos that I had taken I managed to find one with sufficient detail on the ring to locate where and when the bird had the ring fitted. This handsome male juvenile Greenfinch was ringed on the 26/6/10 around a couple of miles from here as the crow flies, or should that be Greenfinch! He certainly seems none the worse for the ordeal. I was really interested to read Warren's info with regards a juvenile Greenfinch being found 18 miles away. I can understand adult birds travelling so far, but had always assumed that a youngster would stay in the vicinity of the nesting area. I learn something new every day, or hopefully I do: it keeps the grey matter working! :-)

Ringing

2010-07-05T07:16:00.000+01:00

Plenty of young birds are now visiting the feeders and eating me out of house and home. The Greenfinches don't seem to be as common this year, with far fewer youngsters around. Of the youngsters that I have seen though, some have had rings fitted to their legs. I have also spotted several adults with rings. I am not sure how far a juvenile will travel, but I wouldn't have thought it would be that far, and so I assume someone is ringing in my locality.

Motivation

2010-07-04T10:14:00.003+01:00

I can't seem to get motivated with blogging or photography at the moment. It is that time of year when despondency sets in: the council have just been round and destroyed a lot of the habitat along the verges, leaving me despairing about the future of our wild plants and the insects, birds and mammals that inhabit this world alongside us.

I read an article last week about scientists trying to discover why the insect world is sharply declining in numbers. In my area the only decent habitat for insects is along the roadside verges. The fields are predominantly a monoculture of ryegrass, with the sheep eating out the base of the hedges leaving little for wildlife to survive on. When those horrible cutting machines come round they macerate all of the foliage, flowers, and insects. along with the mammals that don't move out of the way quickly enough. The Orchids once again were destroyed before they had time to set seed, and a lot of the beautiful Meadowsweet was destroyed just as it was coming into bloom, along with many other flowers. The bankings were smashed where the blades came too close and the homes of insects that lived in tiny burrows were destroyed. When I first moved here there were lots of clumps of Orchids around the lanes, now there are very few of them, and at the rate the council are going soon there will be none. Is there really no one within the scientific and environmental movements that can connect up the dots: we destroy their habitat and they decline. I have tried discussing it with the council to no avail: it has always been done this way and will continue to be done this way. What is it they say about there are none so blind as those that don't want to see?

Oh well, life goes on for some of us, and I am being blessed by visits from many Siskins. Not sure whether there is a shortage of food for them elsewhere or whether the word has got round as to how useful I am. :-)

Garish Beauty - The Mullein Shargacucullia verbasci

2010-06-28T13:10:00.000+01:00

I spotted this delightful caterpillar on one of my Buddleia plants. I always find it suprising that such colourful caterpillars can have such drab parents - take a look here to see the dowdy brown adult: The Mullein Some creatures just look too exotic for this country and this to me is definitely one of them.

I am sorry not to have visited anyone's blogs this past couple of weeks but life got in the way of pleasure and I have had little time for photography or the internet. I hope to be back to normal soon.

Still Visiting!

2010-06-21T07:41:00.000+01:00

The Siskins are still gracing me with their presence and what a delight they are to see. I have seen three males on the feeders at the same time, so I might possibly have more males than this visiting. I have also seen two females on the feeder together, and two juveniles.

I have hardly been on the net this week so I have had no chance to read blogs. Hope you have all had a good week. Will catch up with you all soon.

Any Idea What This Is?

2010-06-16T11:35:00.000+01:00

The Dog Roses are now honouring the hedgerows with their beauty, and what a delight they are to view. The insects are making the most of their presence, though what this caterpillar is I don't know. Any suggestions are, as always, very welcome. :-)

Blogger has been playing up and refusing to let me comment, and making it difficult to post, so I am behind with peoples blogs as I lack the patience to struggle! Hope you are all having this beautiful sunny weather that we are being blessed with.

Nature Can Be So Cruel

2010-06-13T06:51:00.000+01:00

They are all dead, every last one of them. It seems such a waste, and it makes me wonder about the futility of life. I don't know what took them, whether it was birds or mammals, but it is irrelevant what it was: they are no more. I know that in them dying, another life will have the opportunity to live on, and that is the way of nature, but I am still deeply saddened that their stay on this earth was so short. They will live on in a few photos, photos that weren't even good, and they will live on in my memory, those little whirling dervishes.

She's Brought The Babes!

2010-06-12T07:14:00.000+01:00

Once again I have been honoured by a wild Mallard bringing her tiny ducklings to my pond. I spotted them late this afternoon. It is a sort of double edged sword having them here: they are so beautiful, but all of these birds are eating me out of house and home. I ended up with around twenty-five Mallards visiting daily over the winter, after a Mallard successfully raised ten ducklings at my pond last summer, and that group then joined up with another group. I am slightly panicky as around half of those twenty-five were females: I hope they don't all think of a free meal for their babes and bring their ducklings here! I suspect that one other female will definitely bring them as she has been here almost continuously until around a week ago - she is probably now sitting on eggs. Oh well, if I didn't spend the money on food for animals I suppose I would only waste it on that Canon 400mm DO lens that I so desperately want to get my hands on! :-) I am certainly looking forward to getting some decent photographs of the little blighters, that is if they will stay still long enough. This evening they were racing around on the pond like clockwork toys, and from dozens of shots only a few were not completely blurred.

For those who didn't know me last year, you might like to read how the ducklings came to be here last summer. This is the blog post I did then:

"I first heard it in the morning, in the distance, a distressed call, as though danger was close by. The fields surrounding our land are laid down to barley, interspersed with pockets of impenetrable shrub land that would give good cover to a fox roaming in the light of day. I thought perhaps this might be the cause of the alarm, with the duck warning others of his close proximity, but as the hours passed by the call could still be heard, only it was getting closer and closer to my land. If it was a duck in distress I knew that I would stand little chance of catching it unless it was completely immobile, and as the calls were coming closer and closer, this obviously wasn’t the case. After lunch I headed off for a walk with the dogs, still wondering what was causing the commotion.

After a slow saunter I returned and got on with the afternoons round of work. Suddenly I heard a commotion outside coming from the direction of the ducks area. I dashed frantically outside to see what on earth was happening. I could see all of my ducks sitting there peaceably and yet still there was the frantic quacking of a duck. I raced round to the other side of the barn, and there, trying to get through the gate with eleven little ducklings, was a wild Mallard. It just hadn’t occurred to me that it might be a duck moving her young, as it is quite late in the season and the weather has been so horrendous: not conducive to bringing forth new life into the world.

If you follow my photostream on flickr you will have seen a recent photo of a duck that visits my pond every day, helping herself to the food that is always out there for the ducks and hens. This duck, along with a couple of males, has been visiting almost daily for years, at least I think it is the same duck, as she shows little fear of me, and merely walks out of my way when I go out to replenish the food. Of late she has only been visiting briefly a couple of times a day, so I really should have realized what was happening. Her frantic calls must have been to encourage her ducklings to follow her on that mammoth journey, or at least a mammoth journey for such tiny new born creatures. I opened the gate and the little family trotted off pond-wards. At last there was silence and contentment.

For the rest of the day the mother and ducklings busied themselves at the pond and showed no signs of moving off to safer quarters. As the evening progressed I started to worry about their welfare, as they would be totally vulnerable if they stayed in the same place overnight. I don’t believe in interfering with nature, and I know that ducks have such large families due to the great rate of predation on the young, so I just had to hope for the best for them, and wish them well. As night fell I visualized a protective sheet of gossamer falling over them, and I asked the Gods to see them safely through till morning.

As dawn broke I awoke and immediately thought of them. Would they have made it through the night? Would they even still be there? I needn’t have worried: there by the pond was mum and babes, happy and content, having survived to face another day at Natures mercy."

A Rare Female Visitor

2010-06-11T07:33:00.001+01:00

A female Siskin has now joined the two males that are visiting my feeders, and hopefully soon I might have some youngsters. Other than the young sparrows, so far there have only been adult birds visiting the feeders, but I expect a rush of youngsters any day soon - she says with fingers crossed. The forecast until Monday is for mainly sunshine, with gusting winds up to 30 miles an hour, so photographing them might be difficult. Adult birds of all species are coming in increased numbers now, eating me out of house and home, as usually happens at this time of year: a mad rush of a few weeks and then as the youngsters disperse it quietens off again and my purse gives a sigh of relief! :-) This morning my poultry area looks like a scene from Alfred Hitchcock's Birds: the skies are black with Crows, Rooks and Jackdaws. Pigeons and Doves are also appearing en masse.

Many thanks for your visits and comments. I hope the sun shines on you over the next few days.

I Won't Be Popular!

2010-06-10T06:32:00.000+01:00

Oh no! I have nearly run out of sunflower seeds and my supplier won't have any in until Monday! I will not be popular with my ever hungry Goldfinches! I was told that they really prefer niger seeds, but having purchased two feeders, and a twenty-five kilo sack of them, I discovered that actually they will only eat them if the queue to the sunflower seeds is too long: another case of wildlife not reading the right books! :-)

The Goldfinches first started visiting me around two years ago, after having ignored my feeders for many years. Since then they have taken over, with a flock of around thirty always present. They are delightful to look at with their stunning plumage, but they are argumentative little devils who frighten off the more timid Blue Tits.

Deeply Saddened

2010-06-09T06:40:00.000+01:00

For some reason my Swallows have disappeared for the second year running. They set about preparing an old nest, one that hadn't been used for at least ten years, lining it with fresh mud and then bedding, but for some reason have now abandoned it.

There don't seem to be many swallows around this year. I remember a time when the skies were alive with their presence, but now I see very few. It is deathly without their comings and goings, and I really miss the joy that they brought to the skies.

At least the Sparrows that breed in my barn seem to be doing well. This is a photo of a youngster that is making use of my feeders, along with several other youngsters.

A Few Butterflies And Caterpillars

2010-06-08T07:42:00.001+01:00

No idea what this is - any suggestions gratefully received. - ID Oak Eggar - many thanks to Dean. :-)

A beautiful Orange-tip on a Cuckoo Flower.

A Common Blue - I think! I always welcome corrections if I have identified anything incorrectly. :-)

A Wall Brown. I do think the underneath is a lot prettier than the top of the wings with this butterfly.

An open view of an Orange-tip: such a beautiful butterfly.

No idea what these were. They were in the top of a Willow. Anyone any ideas? ID Buff-tips - many thanks again to Dean. :-)

It is still chucking it down. :-( One good thing about rain is that I get the chance to catch up on editing images and reading blogs. :-) Many thanks for your visits and comments. :-)

Rare Visitor

2010-06-07T10:57:00.000+01:00

These delightful little Siskins first started visiting my feeders last year. I had two adults and a youngster for a short period of time over the summer months. They then disappeared, with no sight nor sound of them being seen until this past week, when once again they are coming to the feeders. All I need now is for the wind to drop so that I can get a decent shot of them on a branch - there isn't a cat in hells chance of me doing it at the moment, as the branches are being whipped around by twenty mile an hour winds.

If this year follows the pattern of the last three, then summer has been and gone for another year: we are now back to cool, wet and windy, with the long term forecast saying that it is here for at least the next three weeks. I hope your weather is better than mine and that the sun is shining on you.

It's Not Fair!! I missed them! I missed them!

2010-06-05T14:04:00.000+01:00

I have new neighbours who are bird orientated, which makes a very pleasant change in an area where most people view birds with complete indifference or with malice. Chatting to them yesterday I was asked if I had seen the Red Kites. In shock I said no and asked where and when they had been seen. "Last Friday." came the reply "They were over your house and fields for about half an hour. There were two of them." I was stunned! Not only had I missed them, but they had actually been seen above my house, not just in the area, and I missed them! I have scanned the skies year after year in the hope of seeing Red Kites and when my eyes were averted the little B's come and visit!

Do you know the poem:

"We have fallen in the dreams the ever-living
Breathe on the tarnished mirror of the world,
And then smooth out with ivory hands and sigh."

I often think of this poem, but instead of imagining the God's sighing, I think of them having an extremely good laugh at my expense: my neighbours seeing them, and telling me, is like the God's rubbing salt in the wound!

Oh well, hopefully they will come again and this time I will be looking in the right direction.

As I can't show a photo of a Red Kite I will show a moth instead. I think that this is a Silver-ground Carpet moth - id from a photo on Dean's blog - please correct me if I am wrong.

Morning Has Broken....................

2010-06-02T21:56:00.000+01:00

I actually took this photograph of an evening while sitting with the poultry, but on seeing it on the computer screen I was immediately taken back to childhood assemblies. The school had a large easel, situated in the corner of the hall, that housed the song sheets for our morning hymns. I used to love those sing-alongs, even though I was tone deaf and couldn't sing a correct note if I tried. One of my favourite hymns, then and now, was Morning Has Broken. It used to take me in my imagination out into the fields and woods where I longed to be, instead of having to spend a day in a stuffy classroom. When I look back at all of those beautiful woods and fields of childhood, it saddens me deeply to think that many of them are now under roads, houses, factories or shops.

I spent today making the most of the beautiful sunny weather so I am once again behind with viewing blogs. Many thanks for your visits and comments - I will catch up with you all soon. Hope you are enjoying the same beautiful weather and will join me in song - probably more tunefully than me!

Morning has broken, like the first morning
Blackbird has spoken, like the first bird
Praise for the singing, praise for the morning
Praise for the springing fresh from the word

Sweet the rain's new fall, sunlit from heaven
Like the first dewfall, on the first grass
Praise for the sweetness of the wet garden
Sprung in completeness where his feet pass

Mine is the sunlight, mine is the morning
Born of the one light, Eden saw play
Praise with elation, praise every morning
God's recreation of the new day

I'm Useful!

2010-06-01T13:36:00.001+01:00

Of an evening I sit out with the poultry until it is time for bed, as I want them to enjoy as much daylight as possible, but don't want to leave them vulnerable to predators. As I sit quietly wild birds come and make use of the poultry's food supply. Meet a few of them:

Male House Sparrow

Female House Sparrow

This male and female mallard are regular visitors that have become very indifferent to mine and the dogs presence: they sense that we are no threat. Perhaps this year the female might once again bring her ducklings and rear them at my pond.

Snooze time.

While the female keeps an eye out for trouble.

A feral pigeon. I get as many as 40 of these at times during the year. At the moment only one is visiting.

This Rook was determined to have some seed, though he was very wary of my presence, and who can blame him as they are so horribly persecuted in this area. I have picked many up over the years that have been left with terrible injuries from being shot at.

I get around 40 Collared Doves visiting during the winter but now I am down to around four.

And I shall sneak in one of my own handsome boys: a Rosecomb Bantam cross.

Many thanks for your visits and comments. I am still catching up with everyone's great blogs.

Visting Again!

2010-05-30T22:30:00.000+01:00

My beautiful Buzzard is once again coming for food now that the bird scarers are quiet. This is a photo taken this evening. Not a good one I know, but it is nice to have a record of his/her presence, and as I don't have a long lens this is likely to be the nearest I will get - the image is cropped.

As soon as I saw the Buzzard, waiting on top of this hide that I have in the corner of my field, I put out some rabbit heads. It frequently waits here if it can't spot me. It also nearly always eats the food here. I made this old building into a hide about two years ago, but sadly I have only managed to get a couple of shots of a bird from it due to the local magpies, crows, rooks and jackdaws taking tries and turns to stand on top and scream "'She's in here! She's in here! Stay away! Stay away!" I am wholeheartedly against shooting any bird, but even I have had murderous thoughts about them!

Life has gotten in the way over the past few days so I have had no time to read or write blogs. Hope to catch up with you all soon. Many thanks for your visits and comments.

Elusive Birds

2010-05-28T05:56:00.000+01:00

I have been trying to photograph some of the local warblers, sadly without much success. The birds round here seem, on the whole, to be rather camera shy. This one Willow Warbler did very kindly pose for me, though it didn't believe in staying still for too long! Now if I could just get those dastardly little Sedge Warblers, that seem far greater in number this year, to come out from amidst the branches and leaves! :-)

I read in the local paper today that we have had the driest spring for 54 years. I am already rooting out my waterproof gear ready for the backlash come summer, as somehow I don't think we will have the drought that they are forecasting! Hope you are all warmer than we are here in cold and windy Wales.

All Fluffed Up!

2010-05-27T06:32:00.000+01:00

It isn't only me that is all huddled up with this cold weather. Looking at the forecast for the rest of the week it will stay just as cold, with the same biting wind. Has summer been and gone for another year?

Chaotic day ahead of me again today, so little chance to catch up with blogs. Many thanks for your visits and comments.

An Oasis

2010-05-26T07:52:00.006+01:00

I usually find, tucked away, near the centre of each town, is a small oasis where peace and tranquility can be found, and one can commune with nature. I spent a pleasant hour in such a place yesterday morning on a visit to Pwllheli.

When entering Pwllheli from Caernarfon direction, take the left hand turn down at the side of the railway station. Follow the road along for a short distance and you will come to parking bays at the side of the harbour, park here. On the opposite side of the road to the harbour you will see a low wall; at each end of this low wall are a set of steps that lead down to a path along the edge of the a reedy area where the river flows into the harbour. It is here that time can stand still, and you can enjoy the company of wild birds while the hustle and bustle of town goes on in the distance.

Some photos from yesterday of the birds that are accustomed to human activity and therefore much easier to approach.

Blackbirds seem keen to have a good look at me this week: this little lady hopped into a bush at the side of me and watched me for some moments.

This Jackdaw seemed very interested in the strange lady on the grass with the long lens pointing at him.

This delightful little Pied Wagtail was one of a pair that flitted continuously back and too along a stretch of piping that crosses near the bridge.

A selection of gorgeous Gulls.

And a wonderful Heron that was perched on the same pipeline as the Wagtail while looking for his next meal.

There were other water birds including Shelduck, but unfortunately I didn't have a long enough lens to get a photo of them.

I had a very busy day yesterday, besides this lapse, and so I am still trying to catch up with blogs. Many thanks for your visits and comments on mine.

Avian Encounters

2010-05-25T06:39:00.000+01:00

I sat on the damp newly mown grass with my back to the hen hutch. My collie sat on the wall at the edge of the poultry area, calmly and quietly surveying his territory. My two lurchers lay to my right, dozing in the late evening sun. A chill wind played around us as I watched the three-quarter moon rising above Mynydd Rhiw. I was hoping for some photos of the Sparrows, and perhaps the Collared Doves that visit the hens food supply in large numbers. The Doves tend to be very wary though, so I knew that a shot was probably unlikely, especially as the feeding area was not much more than 8 feet in front of me.

A small shallow ditch which carries away the overflow from the duck pond, a ditch that is damp come winter and summer, lay between me and the food supply. It was in this ditch that I spotted her, at the same time as she spotted me.

She hesitated and stood alertly, assessing the situation, working out whether I was a danger, or insignificant. Thankfully she decided on the latter, and carried on her business of gathering a good supply of worms from the damp soil. I couldn't believe my luck as she hopped closer and closer, totally engrossed in capturing worms. She moved from in front of me and came over to my left. I was sure she would startle and fly away, but even as I gently edged the camera and lens around towards her, she barely bothered. By now she had gathered more wriggling soil covered worms.

She was a good Mummy, and decided that none of her brood were having mucky meals! She turned, backtracked, and then went to the shallow area at the side of the pond. Here she washed the worms thoroughly, and then flew away. I thought that would be the last that I would see of her, but within minutes she was back. This time she flew in from my left and watched me carefully as she hopped along the ditch, checking for more worms.

She worked her way along the full length of the ditch, but no luck, not a one to be found. She turned, stood alertly on the top edge of the ditch, stared in my direction for long moments, and then was gone.

Another precious few minutes in the company of Mother Nature: who needs a TV when you can have this?

P.S. I got rid of my TV over thirteen years ago and it was the best thing I ever did!

Missed It!

2010-05-24T05:05:00.001+01:00

I was layed up for all of Saturday, and most of Sunday, with a migraine, so I missed out on all the beautiful weather and the photographic opportunities, but I did manage a few shots yesterday evening when my migraine had nearly cleared: a European Goldfinch above and a Greenfinch below. Both taken in early evening sunshine.

I shall sneak in one of my own ducks enjoying the evening sunshine while floating on the pond:

Hope you all had a wonderful weekend. I will catch up with everyone's blogs when my eyes are a little less delicate.

Just Glorious!

2010-05-22T04:57:00.000+01:00

What started out yesterday as thick mist, quickly turned to thin mist, and then burnt off completely, leaving us with a beautiful sunny day. We did have very light hazy cloud for part of the day, but that just made it less hot and didn't detract at all from a relaxing and enjoyable slumber in the garden. Bees buzzed, and the occasional butterfly flitted past. Swallows babbled from the telegraph wire, and then swept low over me, and on into my garage where they have decided to make use of a nest that they have ignored for over ten years. Ants, both black and orange, accompanied me on the blanket, along with numerous spiders and the odd fly. It was wonderful to feel the sun on my back.

If you are going out for a walk this weekend, keep a look out for the larvae of the Bloody-nosed Beetle. They can be seen munching away on plants at this time of year. Such delightful looking creatures that make me think of soft liquorice sweeties.

They get their name from the adults habit of exuding a red fluid from the nose when picked up. I am told that it tastes disgusting, but I am not about to try it to find out for myself!

Have a good weekend everyone!

Noises Of Nature

2010-05-21T06:00:00.006+01:00

Yellow Rattle, the beautiful wildflower, is now in bloom. This delightful little plant is a semi-parasitic grassland annual. It looks beautiful along the verges, but wouldn't be a flower that would be welcomed on farm land due to its ability to drastically reduce a grass crop, being said to reduce a hay yield by up to 50 percent. It is to be welcomed though where wildflower diversity is sought, as it opens up the sward and leaves gaps for new seeds when it dies back at the end of the season.

The individual flowers always make me think of a screaming parrot, and when the plant is looked at from a distance, it does have the look of individual birds stuffed into sacks with just their heads peaking out, perhaps giving them something to scream about!

It derives its name from the noise made by the seed heads when ripened: the green 'bladder' behind the flower becomes paper like, and the seeds rattle around inside. This tends to happen around the middle of July onwards. When this plant used to be common on farm land it also had the name of Hay Rattle, as it gave warning to a farmer that the hay was ready to cut. Sadly, gone are the days of wild flower hay, and now we see mainly monocultures of ryegrass. Though these monocultures might give better yields, they are disastrous for wildlife, and also are not good for the health of stock, as the mixed herbs were beneficial to the health of the animals that grazed them. We hear so much now about TB in cattle, and have in the not too distant past had the terrible tragedy of Foot and Mouth, a tragedy of the governments making. For over a hundred years now farmers have been campaigning for better understanding of disease in farm animals, and some of those farmers showed just what could be achieved solely with good diet and herbs. If you are interested in getting a better understanding of these subjects, then it is well worth reading the books by F Newman Turner, Albert Howard and Robert Elliot. The following website has Elliot's and Howard's books available as a free download: http://www.soilandhealth.org Turner's books have now gone back into print, so are no longer available there, but his work carried on from Elliot's and he dedicated his time to curing cattle that would otherwise have only been fit for slaughter, including TB cattle.

A view from my bedroom window this morning.

The mist gets thicker!! But all is not lost because I just heard a Cuckoo: wonderful!!! I had given up hope of them arriving here this year.

And glancing through the window again, the sun is trying to show his face.

The sun has got his hat on! Hip, hip, hip hooray! The sun has got his hat on and he's coming out to play! I had better go and find the sun tan lotion! :-)

Cuckoo! Cuckoo! Cuckoo!

Damp, Dank And Dark!

2010-05-20T06:26:00.001+01:00

Well, that was yesterdays weather anyway: a day of low misty cloud that blocked out the view of the surrounding fields; the sort of weather that makes you feel you should be in bed rather than up and outside working. It stayed that way all day, and by six o'clock the goats were queuing up to come in from the field. This is a view from my bedroom window, looking towards the east. As you can see there isn't much to see other than mist.

This sort of weather always makes me want to watch Hound Of The Baskervilles with Basil Rathbone: one of my favourite films. It is the sort of weather for traipsing across Exmoor on mysterious and dangerous escapades.

Today the mist is so thick that I can barely see the hedgerow. The heatwave is supposed to arrive tomorrow, but seeing is believing: I have been let down by the Met Office far too often in the past to trust them! :-)

The day before yesterday, while we had a little sunshine, I photographed the eggs of the Dock Beetle: Gastrophysa Viridula. They are easily spotted on the undersides of Dock leaves. No wonder the female was so bloated with eggs this size.

The adults were still busying themselves mating.

This is a beetle that they are using as a natural control of Dock on farm land: farmers are being encouraged to breed their own supplies and then release them where needed. If you are new to my blog there are more images and info on this beetle here: http://myworldinphotosandwords.blogspot.com/2010/05/good-year-for-insects.html

P.S. Many thanks for everyones visits and comments; they are much appreciated, as I get great pleasure out of photographing the world around me, and it is nice to know that others enjoy the photos. :-)

Ramsons

2010-05-19T06:51:00.001+01:00

When I moved to this property there were no Ramsons growing on the land, so I set about locating some and planting it up. Everyone thought that I was mad: they all said that I would be overrun with the stuff, as it supposedly spreads quickly wherever it is planted. I wanted it not just for its beauty, but also for its medicinal purposes, so it was a risk that I was willing to take. I planted up four patches of it, and then I waited hopefully for it to spread sufficiently for me to harvest regular supplies. Ten years later the clumps have only doubled in size, and as they were tiny clumps I still don't have enough to harvest. My land is obviously not to its liking, despite the fact that I catered to its needs with the planting situation. At least though I do have some to photograph, though sadly their blooms never last long.

P.S. We are now back to winter: thick low cloud, strong winds and chucking it down. I knew it was too good to last! What would the British do without the weather to complain about?! LOL

Another Beautiful Day!

2010-05-18T06:42:00.000+01:00

I am beginning to worry: we have had mainly dry weather for over a month now, and for the past three days the weather has been just glorious. In previous years when this has happened, it has then rained continuously all summer. Please Gods, do not let that happen again this year! I just couldn't stand another cold, wet, miserable summer; a summer where the woodburning stove is burning as much as in the winter, either that or we sit and shiver.

Oh well, while the sun is shining I am making the most of it, as are the insects.

I have seen quite a few Ladybirds this past few days.

This delightful hoverfly: Leucozona Lucorum seems to have had a good year, with plenty of them about on the Cow Parsley. It isn't one that I have spotted before, and being so distinctive, and quite large, I am sure that I would have done if they had been as plentiful on previous years.

This warm weather has made all the difference to the Bluebells attractiveness to bees: they are being worked continuously by the Bumblebees and the Honey Bees. I wonder whether this is one of my bees?

On a depressing note, my Buzzard has been scared off by a bird-scarer that has been put in the field of barley next door: every so often it lets off a bang that sounds like a bomb going off. Understandably the Buzzard has decided that this is no place to be. I had actually been thinking that Mr Buzzard was in fact a Mrs, due to the fact that it now comes at irregular times and not every day, eating quickly and then disappearing rather than sitting around for a while. I wondered whether it might be sitting on eggs. A few years back a Buzzard reared young in a tree not far from me, and once the youngsters could fly they came daily to my bottom field. I manage the land organically and it teems with voles, shrews and insects: an ideal nursery. I had hoped that once again this year the youngsters would be brought here, but that won't happen if they are continually scared off.

A Good Year For Insects

2010-05-17T05:58:00.004+01:00

This year seems to be going well for insects, which makes a pleasant change, as the last three have, in general, been terrible, with very few insects to be seen. The only exception were butterflies last year that had a fantastic breeding season: I had never seen so many in this area and was spoilt for choice when it came to photographing them.

The photo above is of Gastrophysa Viridula a leaf-beetle. I came across a group of them that were mating on a patch of Dock. The female becomes grossly enlarged with eggs. Below is a top view of one: handsome creatures.

Oh what a beautiful morning! Oh what a beautiful day!

2010-05-16T08:07:00.007+01:00

I awoke this morning as the first rays of the sun glinted across a lush rain-washed landscape. It was one of those mornings when you truly appreciate living in Britain. The first real warmth from the sun had arrived yesterday and I managed to go for the morning walk minus any coat, despite a brisk breeze. Whitethroats littered the hedgerows and all seemed well with the world.

Our peaceful sauntering walk was interrupted by a flock of sheep who had decided to take a wrong turning, leaving the farmer behind some distance away. They were extremely interested in the odd woman lying on her side in a ditch.

The farmer eventually arrived to try and move them, but they had ideas of their own and decided to stay put. After watching the farmer struggle for sometime I decided to give a helping hand. I called the dogs to follow and help, but the dogs said "No chance!" I think their upbringing, with a group of sheep and goats who were all blessed with major attitude problems, has left them only too aware of the damage a sheep can inflict. The sheep seem to sense their reticence and take the opportunity to 'have a go'. As one friend put it "You are the only person I know that could walk through a flock of sheep with a pack of dogs, and have the sheep attacking the dogs instead of the other way round!" The sheep did eventually decide to move on and the dogs and I continued our walk.

It is very difficult when you are on your own as you can't look at both sides of the lane at the same time, so invariably you miss something, and frequently it can be the 'best' something. Yesterday I suddenly had the urge to double back on myself and check the other side of the lane that I had just passsed. I was so glad that I did, as there, in amongst the nettles, were the caterpillars of the Small Tortoiseshell, the first that I have seen this season.

While lying on my side in the ditch a strange man went past and laughed at me: there are some odd people in this world! :-)

And then it was time to dash home and expose some of my blubbery white flesh to the warm sun. While lying in a sheltered spot by the hedge, the Buzzard flew into the hawthorn twenty feet behind me. He screeched and screeched at me. I am not sure whether he was expressing disapproval at the vision of my body, or hunger pangs, but if it was the latter, the sight of me obviously diminished his appetite, as he flew away and didn't come back for several hours! If you are new to my blog and haven't been introduced to my Buzzard you can meet him here: http://myworldinphotosandwords.blogspot.com/2010/03/what-strange-behaviour.html

Almost Cuddly

2010-05-15T11:05:00.004+01:00

Until I started macro photography I had a real phobia about flies. There was just something about them that I found totally repulsive, not something that I could define with specifics, but just a total revulsion. A horror at having them near me, or even in the same room. No other insect has had this effect on me. I lie, I did go through a brief spell in my teens of disliking earwigs, but it was only brief! Seeing a fly in close up though, changed my emotions from one of horror to one of fascination. They come in such a variety of colours and shapes, and some, such as this dung fly, could almost be described as cuddly. He reminds me of some of my teddy bears of childhood with that soft downy looking coat. And that tuft on his head gives him a noble air: I can image a cape thrown over his shoulder and him bowing low in front of Queen Elizabeth I.

Looking But Not Seeing

2010-05-14T20:55:00.003+01:00

Sometimes I find that I am so engrossed in trying to spy out the creatures, I just don't spot them when they are right under my nose: a case of not being able to see the wood for the trees. This happened a couple of days ago: I had been on a long meandery walk when I suddenly spotted the time and realised that the rest of the walk needed to be a brisk one. I stopped scanning the banking and started to walk off, and that was when I spotted it, standing out like a boil on a bare backside: a Brimstone Moth. How I had missed it when searching I don't know. He was hidden slightly behind a blade of grass, but very obligingly stayed put as I moved the blade away, and also moved the blade of grass that he was clinging to in order to get some better shots. I wish all moths were this obliging!

It was certainly a fat little chap, and would make a tasty meal for a bird. I ensured that I tucked it back into the base of the hedge and camouflaged it with another blade of grass when I left.

The Wonders Of A Macro Lens

2010-05-12T06:38:00.001+01:00

The macro lens has opened up a whole new world to me, a world that is full of mystery and beauty. I took the above photo after spotting what I thought were eggs. There was a whole bunch of them on a leaf. I assumed at a casual glance that they were some sort of insect egg. I moved closer with my lens to get a photo for identification purposes, but as I did so the 'eggs' legged it in all directions! Two slightly bolder creatures stayed on top of the leaf as the rest disappeared underneath it. These little creatures were not much bigger than a pin head, and having never seen one before, I scoured my insect books to identify them, but without success. I have asked around and so far no one can tell me what they are. Does anyone reading this know? No prizes for answering, just my gratitude! :-)

UPDATE - It is indeed a young shield bug: http://www.britishbugs.org.uk/heteroptera/idcards/life_stages.html Many thanks Dean. :-)

Top Of The World

2010-05-11T12:29:00.003+01:00

As you reach the summit you have views down the expanse of the Peninsula: a landscape of patchwork fields bordered by narrow hedges and drystone walls, and also the towering exposed rocky peak of Garn Fadryn. It is cold up here; a place where the wind is always lazy: too idle to blow round you so it blows straight through. You quickly become chilled to the bone, even on a warm sunny day.

The summit has an eerie presence and a sense of antiquity, not just from the stone hut circles that litter the ground, but also from the skeletal remains of trees from a long ago fire. You feel as though you are walking in the company of the dead.

As you reach the highest point, and stand at the look out hut, you have views across to Cardigan Bay, Yr Eifl. and on a clear day Snowdonia.

Yr Eifl (The Rivals)

If you enjoy a peaceful walk then this is the place to go. In all the years of walking there I have only bumped into people on a couple of occasions, and that was in the summer months. Also if you are a dog walker this is an ideal place as you can have well behaved dogs off the lead without fear of bumping into sheep: a rare occurrence in this part of Wales.

Be sure to take a walking stick with you as the ground is quite treacherous in places.

Delayed!

2010-05-09T14:20:00.003+01:00

Today's post on the summit of Garn Boduan is delayed due to me taking a very long four hour walk on this delightful sunny spring day. I do instead bring you a view of Garn Boduan taken from the north side of Garn Fadryn.

The path taken to the summit is on the right hand side of of the image, up through the conifers. On the left behind the Garn is the hill at Pistyll, and the three peaks rising behind, one to the left and two to the right, are Yr Eifl, known in English as The Rivals.

Well, sadly, after a long and leisurely morning, followed by a long and leisurely lunch, I have work to do. Hope your day has been as delightful as mine.

The Ascent

2010-05-08T11:13:00.007+01:00

Garn Boduan rises up steeply from near the eastern end of the Llyn Peninsula. It is the site of an Iron Age Hill Fort where the remains of over 160 circular stone huts have been found, remains that are clearly visible even today. The hill is one of those places where you either roast going up, or freeze at the top. I have tried both options, and usually find being over dressed is preferable than under, especially if you wish to admire the views. My latest visit there made me glad that I had taken a warm fleece with me: it was a beautiful sunny spring day - lovely and warm when out of the breeze, but bitter in exposed areas.

The path from the road rises steeply in a southerly direction between conifers, small saplings and my most hated plant: Rhododendron - I would exterminate this plant from the UK, having seen the devastation that it has caused in our native woodlands. I don't even find it attractive, and consider its gaudy flowers to be totally out of place in our subtle and beautiful countryside. Sorry, rant over for today!!

Onwards and upwards: the path snakes round towards the north through tall conifers and more mature native trees. As the path starts to turn to the south again you will see a much narrower path cutting up through tall conifers, it is this path that I always take to the summit. You only walk a short distance before the conifer cover thins out to be replaced by a patchwork of bracken, heather, stunted gorse and the occasional sapling.

Up ahead the rocks rise, sheer and bleak, providing an outcrop from which the Ravens view their territory. There is always a pair here. They flap slowly from rock to rock, watching your progress with a wary eye. The path continues to zig-zag to the summit through patches of buzzing bilberry. I stand and listen, and watch the Bumblebees busy at work.

And then I spot a small patch of Fairy Bells better known as Wood Sorrel. I have never tried eating this plant but I have read that it has an acid taste and makes a pleasant addition to salads. It also makes a 'Sirrup for a Feaver':

"Take Sirrup of Violets two ounces; Sirrup of Woodsorrell two ounces; Sirrup of Lemmon two ounces, mixed altogether, and drink it."

It is so sad that we have lost so much knowledge of the herbs of wood and field due to the influence of the drug industry, an influence that is in the interests primarily of profit and not health.

Just after the Fairy Bells I reach the first wall of the hill fort.

I stand and think of our distant ancestors climbing this hill to reach safety from oncoming attackers, attackers who would be so vulnerable when traversing this steep rocky land.

And then I reach the first of the stone huts: what a bleak and inhospitable place to live.

Just beyond this hut is a small patch of water. Whatever time of year I have visited there is always a puddle. I assume that underneath is a spring of some sorts, perhaps the one where the Iron Age people got their water from.

And then we head towards the summit: visit again tomorrow for the last installment!

Old Hairy!

2010-05-04T22:01:00.001+01:00

The diversity of creatures on this earth is just amazing, especially if originally we all developed from the first living organism. Yesterday I spotted this wonderful caterpillar that reminded me of a hairy biker or rocker. Searching through identification sites I think he is a Drinker Moth caterpillar - if anyone knows any different then please let me know. Also if anyone knows of any good identifcation sites for caterpillars, or moths and butterflies, then I would be really grateful for the links. I got the id for this chap from here: http://www.ukleps.org/morphology.html

Natures Help For The Bees?

2010-05-03T20:35:00.005+01:00

The plight of the bee has been mentioned again and again in the news over the past year: they are suffering and dying, and soon there might be none. As a beekeeper it is a subject dear to my heart.

At this time of year there are few nectar plants around, and so certain types are vital for the bees survival, one of those being the Dandelion. It seems though that the Dandelion is a plant that most people loathe, rather than love. In the past couple of weeks there have been articles in the national press highlighting a massive increase in their numbers, with people complaining about them ruining their lawns and gardens. It seems to me rather strange that on the one hand we should have campaigns running to save the bees, and on the other hand be trying to remove their food supply from our surroundings. Perhaps Nature has seen that the bees need a helping hand and has thus produced masses of Dandelion blooms, and man is one again trying to thwart her.

Personally, I find the Dandelion to be a beautiful flower, and I try never to disturb it in my garden, being happy to give it pride of place alongside my garden blooms. Not only do I love to see the blooms, I also love to see the seed heads, and I can never resist picking one, blowing on it and saying "He loves me!" then another blow "He loves me not!", on and on until the seed head is bare, finding out with the last breath whether I am to be loved or left: a remnant from my childhood days.

Not only is the Dandelion a food plant for bees, but over ninety other species of insect make use of its wonderful nectar supply: a golden gift from the Gods. So next time you see a Dandelion, rather than pull it up, spend sometime watching and admiring this delightful flower and marvelling at what a blessing it is to the insects of this world, especially the delightful Honey Bee.

2010-05-02T20:45:00.002+01:00

I often think about what I would like to come back as in the next life, and also what I definitely wouldn't want to come back as; the limpet falls into the latter category. Can you image living for up to twenty years, being battered by the stormy seas, or baked by the sun, living on hard abrasive rocks, with nothing to do but eat? It certainly isn't a life that would appeal to me!

If any marine experts are reading this I would be interested to know if both of these are Patella vulgata or whether the peach coloured one is something else? Or perhaps neither are Patella vulgata? I am not that knowledgeable on sea creatures. (Hanging my head in shame as I should be living next to the sea!)

2010-05-01T20:36:00.000+01:00

When daisies pied and violets blue

And lady-smocks all silver-white

And cuckoo-buds of yellow hue

Do paint the meadows with delight,

The cuckoo then, on every tree,

Mocks married men; for thus sings he,

Cuckoo;

Cuckoo, cuckoo: O, word of fear,

Unpleasing to a married ear!

William Shakespeare (1564 - 1616)

Oh for the days of Shakespeare to come again! Sadly now we rarely hear the Cuckoo in this area, though we are still blessed with the beautiful Cuckoo Flower, also known as Lady's Smock. In the past three years I have heard a Cuckoo on only one occasion that I can remember, and I rue the day when I cursed its repetitive song, a song that started at first light and awoke me every morning. I am an early riser, but the Cuckoo rose too early even for me, and in previous years I had longed for some peace and some sleep. I walked around each day like a zombie while the Cuckoo was present, but I would gladly do that again if only they would grace us with their company.

Chantilly Lace And A Pretty Face

2010-04-30T20:18:00.000+01:00

The pretty face is not the face of a human though, but the face of Mother Nature: as I walk around the lanes the Sloe hedges are covered in beautiful white blossom. Some patches are just the size of pocket handkerchiefs of lace, and other patches look as though half the lane has been draped in beautiful delicate reams of it. No photograph could do the sight justice, or correction, no photo that I have managed to produce could! :-) I opt instead to show the beauty of an individual bloom. I hope you enjoy its charm as much as I do. :-)

New Arrivals And Old Friends

2010-04-28T10:35:00.001+01:00

The migrants are starting to show themselves now, with my first view this morning of a Whitethroat: such a beautiful and distinctive bird. Over the past few days I have also seen several Wheatears, but perhaps these are the Greenland race, that will only be stopping over for a short period of time, before continuing their long journey to their breeding grounds in the Arctic tundra of Greenland and northern Canada. Swallows have become much more abundant over the past few days as well.

This morning I saw my first fledgling of the season: a young Blackbird. Somehow it had ended up in one of my shippons, and the poor thing flew into a terrible panic when I entered. It ended up covered in cobwebs from its frantic flight around the roof, looking for a way out. I moved into the furthest corner and it flew down and headed out, back towards the field.

And the most pleasant discovery of yesterday was that the Great Tits are once again nesting in one of my chimneys. :-) I can't wait to see the youngsters.

Shrouded In Mist

2010-04-27T12:25:00.001+01:00

The weather forecast had said that the low cloud would lift and visibility would be good, but why, oh why do I ever believe the forecast?! When I arrived at Mynydd Rhiw this morning, the low misty cloud shrouded the whole of the peak, with visibility down to a few yards. I was there, so the walk would go ahead regardless of adverse weather conditions, after all it wasn't as though I could get lost or be injured.

The dogs jumped joyfully from the car and galloped off up the path into the mist. I whistled, and they galloped back to join me. We took the left hand path that would take us around by the dry-stone wall, along the southern edge of the summit. There was an acrid smell in the air from the burnt stumps of heather and gorse, remnants of the winter land clearing. Skylarks twittered overhead, and a bird, about the size of a Blackbird, flew over to the right, calling loudly - could it have been the Ring Ouzel that I had so long wished to add to my 'seen' list? The mist did too good a job of hiding him for me to be certain. Normally, as I walk along this path, I would have a view of the wide curve of Cardigan Bay, but today I could just about spot a sheep on the other side of the wall. I had brought three lenses for my camera, just in case, but it looked as though I wouldn't even need one. The path had become quite overgrown since I last visited, the combination of rocks and weed making it a little treacherous, so I decided that it would be safer to take a wider path over towards the middle of the summit.

I walked on, feeling disorientated, a fog not just in the air, but also in my mind. It was like walking in twilight, giving me a sense of sleepiness: a desire to sit down and snooze, rather than walk on. Then suddenly I came to a car: I had already reached the far side Mynydd Rhiw. I must have walked much further than I had thought, and somehow I had managed to totally miss the towering outcrop that housed the gigantic masts for the TV and mobile phone companies, as well as having missed the stone hut circle - a home to Iron Age man. I turned and headed back, taking a path over to my left to head along the northern edge of the summit, but once again I became disorientated, and suddenly looming up on my left, instead of on my right, were the aerials, shrouded in mist. By now I just wanted to get away from the place. I had a sense of unease, a sense of being followed. I know there were no humans there, or living humans at least, but perhaps the spirits of the past were joining me on my walk, wondering who I was, and why I invaded their solitary home.

A Good Year

2010-04-26T20:44:00.001+01:00

I had always thought of Blackbirds as being common birds, birds that were always around the garden, the parks and the roads, but then I moved here, and suddenly they were rare. There was an emptiness without them, not just on the land and in the sky, but also in the energy of the air: a gap where there should be a tin whistle melody. Winters would see an influx of them if the rest of the country had bad weather, but they would disappear as quickly as they had arrived: like a favourite guest who only had time to stay for a drink instead of the whole party. But this spring has been different: not just one pair, but several have graced us with their presence. Two handsome males battle for territory on the front lawn, and to the rear of the barn a female is already feeding youngsters. Wherever I go along the lanes I see Blackbirds flitting too and fro, or hear them singing loud and clear. I know that there had been concern, that after this hard winter many birds would suffer come the breeding season, but so far that doesn't seem to be the case here. Perhaps the birds sense that we are in for a good summer, instead of the rain-drenched ones of the last few years.

Small Copper

2010-04-25T07:13:00.000+01:00

I saw the first one of the season yesterday, and what a delightful sight it was: a flash of iridescent coppery-orange and brown, flitting quickly from plant to plant. This specimen would have emerged from its long winter hibernation, spent as a larvae, in a silken shelter on one of its food plants: dock and sorrel. I don't see many of them in this area, which makes a glimpse even more special.

A Fateful Journey

2010-04-24T10:48:00.004+01:00

It was Easter weekend, early April 1901 when the Stuart set out from Liverpool on its long journey to New Zealand, a journey that would be over almost before it was begun. The 912 ton sailing ship, built in 1877 in Dundee, started its voyage along the coast of North Wales in a southerly wind and thick drizzle, drizzle that prevented the ship from seeing the Caernarfon Bay Lightship, thus depriving it of the opportunity to move further out to sea, away from the jagged rocks of this treacherous coastline.

The Stuart sped along much faster than they had expected, and in the early hours of Easter Sunday the ship hit the rocky shore before anything could be done to avoid the collision. In the dark and drizzle the crew were unsure just how close to land they were, and so immediately abandoned ship. The hours until daylight were spent trying to find a place to land, with the crew totally unaware that all they had needed to do was sit tight on board and wade ashore at low tide.

The shipwreck proved a welcome bonus for local people, as it was filled with a large cargo, containing amongst other things a large number of cases filled with whisky.

At a very low tide, part of the wreck is still visible and can be seen lying a quarter of a mile west of Porth Colmon. Pieces of pottery can still occasionally be found along the shore line.

Another First!

2010-04-23T20:54:00.001+01:00

I get the feeling that it is going to be a good year for firsts. :-) About two weeks ago I heard a bird call that I have never heard before. It was coming from low down in some gorse that grew along the border of an area of scrubland. The image that immediately came to my mind was of a warbler with a machine gun! I didn't get to see the bird, and never heard the call again, until this lunchtime that is: I was walking along the lane heading homewards after my midday walk with the dogs. Camera in hand, I was just pottering along, looking for insects, when suddenly I heard the call again. I stood still and listened carefully. It was coming from what was once an orchard, but has long since become an overgrown scrubby area, quite close to a farmhouse. It was clear and distinct and the same image sprang to mind: I couldn't get beyond the machine gun. Finally this evening I had time to sit down and work my way through the bird songs on the RSPB site. I started looking at warblers that I didn't know and when I came to this one: The Grasshopper Warbler - http://www.rspb.org.uk/wildlife/birdguide/name/g/grasshopperwarbler/index.aspx I recognised it instantly. Apparently it is a bird that has suffered massive declines. Let us hope that perhaps it is now doing a little better and expanding its range.

Has Saint Patrick Visited Us?

2010-04-23T12:22:00.002+01:00

I first spotted the Adders by the gate post, at the edge of the lane, in March last year. There were three of them then, but this year there is only one. I was lucky to first discover them when they were still docile from their winters hibernation, as I managed to put my face within inches of one of them. I was on my hands and knees, looking into the crevices of an old stone wall, trying to see where the bumblebee had gone, and only on rising did I spot the snake. At first I thought he must be dead, as there had been no movement, and it was then that I realised how easy it is for someone to get bitten, someone who has the urge to closely examine a creature that they wouldn't usually get close to: I felt the same urge, but luckily caution won out, and then he moved! I say a he, as I asked an expert to identify a photograph and they sexed it as a male. He slithered off into the long grass and out of sight, but he was back there on future days, along with two others.

This year, despite it being a harsher winter, I saw the first snake nearly three weeks earlier, on a cold spring day. He was basking in a patch of weak sunshine, on a warm west facing bank. I kept searching daily for more of them, but sadly it was just the one, and now he has gone. He disappeared after shedding his skin, leaving behind a memory and another souvenir for my collection.

Where Did All The Toads And Frogs Go?

2010-04-21T14:31:00.005+01:00

It seems to have been a really bad year for toads and frogs in this area: they initially came out of hibernation much later than usual, and just as I was decrying the inhumanity of mankind when it came to the treatment of these creatures, regarding the numbers killed on the roads, they all suddenly disappeared. Usually the road kills can number into the hundreds, but this year there were only around 50 over a few nights. Frog spawn has been scarce for a few years now, with less and less appearing along the ditches - usually I gather it and transfer it to a pond where it stands a chance of survival, but this year there was not a single patch along the ditches and none in the ponds. Asking around people in the area, it seems that this has been the case in their ponds as well, with both frogs and toads fairing badly. There has been a massive decline over the decades in both of these species, and it seems that this unusually cold winter has been devastating for them in this area. I can only hope that they will recover.

The photo is of one that was sadly killed on the road - it looks as though it was praying, and perhaps if toads can pray, it was asking the Gods to make mankind more considerate of others on this planet.

The Llyn Peninsula

2010-04-20T12:55:00.004+01:00

The Llyn Peninsula is like an arm outstretched from the main body of the UK, its finger pointing towards Barsdey Island, and beyond, across the Irish Sea, to Ireland. As you enter the Llyn from the Caernarfon direction you will pass, on your right, on one of the summits of Yr Eifl, the Iron Age hill fort: Tre'r Ceiri - Town of the Giants. As you look to your left you see the wide open expanse of Cardigan Bay.

This is a peninsula steeped in history, with a strong religious connection, being on the Pilgrim's Trail, and as you carry on along the Peninsula, you will pass, over on your left, several other Iron Age hill forts: Boduan, Garn Fadryn and Mynydd Rhiw. These are situated on the remnants of the Llyn's volcanic past. The views from these summits are quite stunning, giving you clear views to Snowdon and Ireland when the weather is fine. We will visit these peaks in more detail in future posts, as well as taking a look at the Pilgrim's Trail.

This is a land of small farm fields bounded by dry stone walls and hedges; a place of sea cliffs, long stretches of sand and small quiet coves. Lonely single track lanes meander across the countryside, lanes where you can easily lose yourself, and certainly no place for those drivers who can't reverse!

It has the ever changing climate of a land governed by the sea: one minute calm and balmy, the next wild and stormy; one moment basking in the sun, and the next moment the fingers of sea mist creeping in to grasp you; gentle lapping waves, or wild leaping torrents of foam lashing the cliffs. A place of extremes.

Who Sits Here?

2010-04-17T11:11:00.003+01:00

At the far end of my favourite little cove, the rock rises steeply up to form a miniature headland, before falling into a deep ravine of rock. It is to this headland that I clamber, before heading homewards after my hour or so of pottering. I stand, or sit, and stare off into the distance, soaking up the peace and the tranquility, but I am not the only one to make use of this mini headland: scattered all across the 10 sqare feet of grassland, are the remnants of someone's meal. There are crabs legs, crab cases, mermaid's purses (the egg shell of a fish, probably a dog fish in this area), the bones of small mammals or even of sheep, the spines and backbone of a fish, or the head and neck of a bird. I have never seen anything on this headland, so I have no idea whether it is the favourite place of a bird or a mammal. Perhaps gulls are the diners, but whoever it is, I can always guarantee a new item of interest to add to my collection. Yesterday I found these two crabs legs, a lobster claw and another case of the body of a crab: such beauty even in death.

Sun-kissed Day

2010-04-16T20:36:00.001+01:00

As the dawn chorus serenaded a calm sun-kissed day into life, I was presented with a terrible dilemma: the headland or the lanes. When you live by the coast, calm days are few and far between, and every single moment of one is treasured, especially when you are into macro photography: trying to photograph a flower, that is being whipped around by a gale force wind, is nigh on impossible. Only three more weeks of the headland until the autumn, but will there be anymore calm days? I looked at the dogs and thought of their enjoyment, as well as my own, and the headland won out.

I decided to head down to the little rocky bay, the only one that is accessible easily on this stretch of the headland. To enter it you drop down a steep incline into a valley riven by a stream. The path zig-zags to and fro, cutting deeply into pebbled-clay as you descend, and then, after jumping the stream, you climb back up, before once again dropping down over jagged rocks, on to a beach of storm-tossed pebbles. There are pebbles of pink, green, grey, amber and yellow and pebbles mottled or veined with white. This is a landscape created by volcanic action, and by receding ice at the end of the last ice age when boulder clay was left behind.

The cove can be walked in under two minutes, but never yet have I managed to do it, as there is just too much to distract my attention. At low tide rock pools are visible, and these have to be searched for anemones, winkles, delicate lacy seaweed, and the occasional fish or crab. The pebbles that line the beach have to be examined carefully for tiny baby mollusks or periwinkles: I would hate crush anything. The jagged mini-cliffs have to be scoured in search of the wild flowers and lichens that cling on precariously to existence in such a harsh salt-lashed environment. Shells have to be examined, whether they be on living creatures, or just the remnants of a life gone by. And of course there are the seals to look out for: sometimes they sleep in the kelp that grows in the shallow waters.

An hour passes with only the distant sound of a tractor, or a boats engine. Skylarks sing from the fields and seagulls and wading birds are my companions. And all is well with the world.

Hairy Yet Pretty

2010-04-15T17:50:00.000+01:00

I first saw Pink Campion when visiting Tenby in South Wales: it was growing in abundance along the cliffs in that area. It was such a stunning flower, and yet its gaudy cerise pink petals seemed so out of place in the mellow Welsh countryside. It would be many years before I would once again have the pleasure of seeing it, and this time it would be along lanes, at the base of hedgerows, in North Wales. For some reason it doesn't grow along the cliffs in this area. I am not sure why. Perhaps it is due to over-grazing, or perhaps a different type of soil.

This is another plant that disappeared over the cold spell, after having grown continuously all year round, for years and years. Even during the depths of winter I could guarantee seeing that beautiful bright splash of colour, warming and cheering a cold and bleak day. Winter was much the worse for it absence.

It is supposed to be attractive to moths and butterflies, but I have rarely seen insects of any kind on it. Whatever its usefulness, it is a delight to have around.

Making The Most Of It

2010-04-14T12:18:00.005+01:00

It won't be long now before I am unable to get through to the headland due to cattle in the fields: cattle hate dogs, and I have three of them. My dogs are not the Lassie type, who are forever committing heroic feats in order to rescue Mother from all oncoming dangers, they work more on the principle of "We love you Mummy, we really do, but if someones going do die, then it might as well be you!" When they see those bolshy cattle, come hurtling across the fields in our direction, they hide quickly behind me, or leg it as fast as they can. They don't notice the fence in between them and us, they just run and ask questions later. To be honest I don't know how they manage to run, as my legs normally turn to jelly, and I freeze and hope that the fence holds tight. I still have nightmares about the large black beast with glowing eyes and animosity flowing through every vein in his body, the body that was hurtling towards me and the fence at breakneck speed. When he skidded through the mud, and stopped a quarter of an inch from the fence, I finally understood what they meant in the novels when they talked of people fainting from fright. It was some moments before I could even breath, never mind move! I did mention to the farmer that I thought all cattle should be banned from the fields that 'I' want to walk through, but I assume from his howls of laughter that he thought I was kidding. Does the man not realise that 'I' am the MOST important person in the world?! :-)

So for now I am making the most of the peace and tranquility of these desolate headlands; the domain of the Chough, the Peregrine and the Hare. A place that is left to nature, and the sheep, for 95 percent of the time. It is an area of steep cliffs that tumble down to jagged rocks and small sandy coves, coves that only the birds and the seals visit. The paths along the cliff edges are treacherous: narrow foot wide gullies that cut deep into the pebble-dashed clay; paths that trip you unless you pay attention to where you are going. You need two hands to climb up and down the steep slopes, and it is no place for the faint hearted. Deep gullies cut through from the fields, where streams have run for hundreds and hundreds of years, gullies that are a-swill with mud and reeds. You need to be good at jumping to avoid sinking into the quagmire.

Sometimes the dogs and I just sit and stare: with views on a clear day across to Ireland and Holyhead, it is a great place to just pass the time. And sometimes we scramble up and down, all of us breathing loudly, and feeling truly alive.

A First!

2010-04-13T14:40:00.004+01:00

Today I really have had little time to stand and stare due to vets visits, but I did manage a quick walk with the camera at lunchtime, and I was certainly glad that I took it with me: I saw the first Comma butterfly that I have ever spotted in this area. Over the past couple of days I have spotted a butterfly on two occasions, each time though it was flying too fast to identify, but this one had settled on a patch of Lesser Celandine. They are a distinctive butterfly with jagged edges to their wings, making them look like ragged Small Tortoiseshell. It was this distinctive shape that immediately caught my eye, rather than the colourings. Their name derives from the comma like markings on the underside of the wing. They come out of hibernation at the end of March, so this beauty had survived our long hard winter. It was certainly a sight that made my day, as I always get a real buzz out of seeing something new to the area, or a species completely new to me. This one is also extra special as it is a species that nearly became extinct, but has now rallied and has become widespread, unlike many butterflies that are suffering from lack of habitat.

I Have No Time To Stand And Stare...................

2010-04-12T20:24:00.004+01:00

.............but I do it anyway! Each day I promise myself that I will catch up with the work left over from the day before, but then the sun rises on another beautiful day, and all my promises are forgotten.

Today I went for a brisk walk, or at least it was supposed to be one. It is easy to walk briskly when the wind harries you from all directions, and the warmth and shelter of a house seems like an attractive proposition, but when the day is calm, and gentle, it seems only right that I should mirror its mood. I started to saunter within minutes of beginning the walk, and a half hour walked turn into an hour and a half. How could I pass by that delicate cobweb that glistened with the diamond dew drops? I had to stand and stare, and admire its beauty! And then there were the translucent wings on the sapphire-backed fly: such exquisiteness on such a maligned little creature, a charm that is missed without a macro lens or a magnifying glass. I came to the shimmering sheet of yellow Lesser Celandine and sat on the ground to get a better view. The sun warmed my back and made that small section of the world appear golden. In the distance skylarks sang their beautiful melody. Ah, such bliss!

And then, treasure of all treasures, I spotted an Oil Beetle! I had been trying to photograph this little chap for years without success, and there he was, near the top of a bank in good view. Lots of photos were an essential item - not that I hadn't taken lots already, but you know how it is when obsession takes over! :-) He is such an interesting beetle: the female lays thousands of tiny eggs in holes and cracks on the ground. Eventually these eggs hatch out into larvae with long legs. The larvae then climb over plants and await their victim: a wild bee. The only larvae that survive will be the ones that manage to find a host. They will be taken back to the wild bees nest and will devour the eggs and grubs, and eventually the store of honey, once they have changed into grubs themselves. They overwinter as headless, legless maggots, then once again change shape before finally pupating. The adults eat buttercup plants and can be seen on heaths and open grassland.

Isn't he a beauty?

All pleasant days have to come to an end, and as dusk fell, the cry of my husband could be heard ringing out loud and clear: "What the hell have you been doing all day, or should I say not doing!"

The Primrose, The Fly and The Beetle

2010-04-11T21:53:00.005+01:00

Today has been just beautiful: warm, calm and sunny. As I walk the lanes I see new flowers appearing daily, though the insects seem to be sparse so far this year. With all the mild winters we have had, I have become used to seeing imsects all year round nearly, so to have gone for several months seeing little has been very strange. I have seen quite a few queen Bumblebees this past few days, which came as a relief as I had started to worry that they had been very badly hit by the weather. Last year I saw Bumblebees on Mahonia on New Years Day.

I did spot an insect new to me today: the Common or Green Tiger Beetle. I spotted him dashing through some grass and only just managed to get a fleeting shot of him. Not a great photo but good enough for identification purposes. Isn't he a handsome chap?

Well I am off to bed after a long and tiring day. Hope your day was as enjoyable as mine. :-)

Missed Chances

2010-04-10T13:21:00.011+01:00

Nature photography can be an unbelievably frustating hobby: all those missed chances when you spot the animal too late, all the times when you have the wrong lens on the camera and are either too close or too far away, forgetting to check settings on the camera body and finding all the images are under or over exposed, not to mention the excitement of seeing something wonderful, but being so engrossed in its beauty you miss the fact that something awful was also included in the frame. Yesterday I managed two mistakes, one that I could rectify later and one chance that will probably never come again.

I had been out for my morning walk and headed up to an area we call 'The Forest' - it actually doesn't remotely resemble a forest, but there are a few trees there, and living in an area almost denuded of them, it is easy to get carry away with descriptive titles! Alongside the lane that runs by The Forest there is a ditch where the Marsh Marigold grows. As with all the wildflowers it is much later this year than normal, and I had been checking it almost daily in the hopes of catching the first blooms to appear. I spotted its golden glow immediately, it was there, just on the edge of the ditch, where it first drops down from the road. Straight away I went blank! Eyes glazed, camera up and shutter being pressed. I looked at the screen on the back of my camera and the exposure looked great. All I saw was that beautiful flower, with eight deeply veined golden petals. I ended my walk in a daze of happiness.

Then I got home and brought the images up on the computer screen! :-( In my enthusiasm I had missed the finer points, such as the dead leaves that surrounded it, causing unsightly brown splodges that totally distracted your attention away from the flower. Oh well, at least I didn't have far to go back. I could wait until softer light in the late afternoon and try again.

Late afternoon came and I fitted my 70-300mm IS lens, along with an extension tube (if you have never tried this combination, it is great for getting flower shots, as it allows you to get nearer to the blooms. thereby producing frame filling images). I then called the dogs and headed off along the lane. I hadn't gone far when I spotted a movement on my left, in a hole, on the top of a bare banking. I was sure I had just seen the beady eyes of a Weasel. I know from past experience that a Weasel always has to come and have another look, they are such curious creatures who like to check things out and see what you are up to. I was left with a terrible dilemma: the combination of lens and extension tube is great for blooms but it has the problem that it no longer focuses on infinity, and I now wouldn't be able to focus on the hole, as I was too far away. If I moved forward I would probably scare the Weasel off, but if I stayed where I was, there was no chance whatsoever of me getting a photo. Suddenly the Weasel once again appeared. He stayed for a long moment and stared at me and the dogs, and then he shot back down the hole. I decided to quickly remove the extension tube and hope that he would reappear. Sadly he must have disappeared out of another hole, or decided to wait until he was sure the coast was clear, because despite waiting for half an hour I didn't see him again. I carried on with my walk, cursing my luck as I went.

The Gods must have felt that I needed my spirits lifting, because above me, as I walked up the lane, the swallows filled the sky with their acrobatics, as if putting on a show soley for my benefit - where this morning there had been one, now there was a dozen or more. And to lift my spirits even more, I got the shot of the beautiful Marsh Marigold bloom - I hope you enjoy seeing it as much as I did.

Farewell And Hello

2010-04-09T10:41:00.003+01:00

The last Starling has finally left us and all is once again calm and peaceful. It seems strange without them. They arrived late this year, not coming to visit us until well into January, whereas nornally they are here in the autumn. In previous years, when they have arrrived late, it has been due to farmers not having been able to harvest all of their crops because of bad weather, and the Starlings making the most of a bountiful food supply. Once they do arrive there is certainly no chance of missing their presence: the noise alone would be enough to notify you that they were in the area, but even if you managed to miss the babbling cacophony, you certainly wouldn't miss the hundreds, if not thousands of birds, swirling in the sky like a massive swarm of bees.

The countryside is never silent for long though, and only this morning I saw my first Swallow of the season: he swept in from my left and flew fast and low along the lane, then upwards and back to the left over the barbed-wire fence and the golden coconut scented gorse. He then disappeared across the fields and off into the distance towards the sea, but he, and many of his companions, will soon be back to grace us with their melodic song.

What a difference a day makes............................

2010-04-07T12:26:00.002+01:00

Twenty-four little hours

Brought the sun and the flowers

Where there used to be rain

Yesterday we dripped with moisture from the lashing rain and the sodden air when the rain occasionally ceased to pour, but as dusk arrived, the winds dropped and cloud cover slowly moved away. Looking out towards Ireland, and the mountains of Wicklow, you could see clear blue sky above the foaming Irish Sea.

But even bad weather brings its blessings, and the Earth soaked up the much needed water, quenching its thirst and giving new life to all its many dependants. This morning the sun shines, not just on us, but on the first of this years blossoms. Where two days ago there was nothing, now there is beauty.

A Long Journey

2010-04-06T07:47:00.011+01:00

I spotted it first in the budding willow that sits above the stream, where it passes under the road. It was the flitting movement to my left that caught my eye. It wasn't the usual movement of a Blue Tit or Chaffinch, the birds I would regularly see in that area, it was quicker and more graceful. I stopped and scanned the branches, and then I spotted it: the first warbler of the year. My heart always skips a beat when I see the first migratory bird, a bird that will have flown thousands of miles, just to come and nest, and rear young, in my area. Many humans think that they are so superior to the other species that inhabit this planet, but could you imagine a human managing to travel 3000 miles, without a compass or map, and managing to arrive back in the country of their birth? Most of us would be lost after the first one hundred miles.

My view of the warbler was all too short, as he quickly flew across the lane, through the spiky hawthorn hedge and into an area of scrubland that grows alongside the stream. My view of him was so brief that I didn't even get a definite identification, but I am pretty sure that it was a Willow Warbler, a delightful yellow-tinged little bird, that weighs only 10 grams. This bird is unusual in that it moults twice a year, once in its over wintering area and once in its summer home. The experts aren't sure why this happens, but it might be due to the extremely long migratory journey that it makes.

It has been two days since I spotted it, and I have had no views since. The weather has turned colder and much more windy, with winds once again in the region of 50 miles an hour. I do so hope that he, or she, makes it through this snap of rough weather: after such a long journey it would be a tragedy if it didn't.

Violet is for faithfulness................

2010-04-04T12:36:00.001+01:00

Which in me shall abide

Hoping likewise that from your heart

You will not let it slide

It seems that each year the voilet chooses her time badly to bring forth her blooms from her leaf-strewn abode. The day before the harsh winds and rains enveloped us, the first delicate flowers could be seen gracing the barren-banks of the lanes. They looked so fragile, and yet, amazingly, they withstood such horrendous weather: where the daffodils were burnt and withered by the wind, the violets looked pristine, as though washed and polished ready for the Easter church parade. As I walk the lanes, everywhere I look along the bankings, there is a scattering of purple petals, looking like confetti left over after a wedding. Perhaps this is the time when Nature renews her vows with the Earth.

The poem is "A Nosegay Always Sweet" by William Hunnis

Renewal

2010-04-02T12:37:00.004+01:00

For the past few years we have had no destinct Spring season: Autumn has slipped into Spring, with Winter barely waving as he passed. There has been no real renewal, as many plants never truly died off. This year was different though. At the beginning of the year, Autumn finally waved goodbye, as Winter swept in with a harshness that has not been seen for many a moon. Jack Frost repeatedly visited us, freezing the ground hard. The birds flooded in to the feeders, desperate for energy from sunflower seeds and fat balls. And all the plants withered and died. No more Pink Campions brightening the hedgerows, no early Lesser Celandines turning their yellow faces to the sun, just barren land, brown dry grass and dead leaves.

And then Spring danced back in, covering us with her colourful cloak of beauty.

To see a dead withered branch, suddenly sprout a tuft of new green leaves, is truly awe inspiring. A shoot of new life, coming from bare soil, lifts the spirits and gives a sense of renewal to the soul. And the first budding flowers are like manna from Heaven.

The Ravages of Nature

2010-03-31T19:43:00.005+01:00

Most of my beautiful daffodils are gone. :-( For the last three days we have had torrential rain, rain that didn't come downwards, but came slashing broadside into our faces. Fifty mile an hour winds danced frenziedly around the gardens, house and outbuildings, razing to the ground my radiant blooms.

Nature gives and nature takes away.

Hopefully we will share each others company again next year.

What Strange Behaviour!

2010-03-30T09:42:00.007+01:00

I was worried yesterday when my Buzzard didn't arrive. I say 'my' Buzzard, but he is mine only in my affection for him. Actually, I don't know whether it is a him, or a her, but I shall call it a him. I started to feed my European Buzzard at the beginning of the harsh spell of winter weather. I feed all the seed eating birds, so it only seemed right that I should also give Mr Buzzard a helping hand. He was also difficult to ignore, as he would sit on one of the fence posts in my field and repeatedly call out to me. One day he even came right up close to the house and peered in at the window: "You are feeding them, so why can't you feed me!" So I started to feed him. Only a small amount, just to help him through the worst of the weather, as I didn't want him to become dependant on me. In reality it has turned out the other way round: I am dependant on him - I need my fix of his visit so that I can admire his beauty and check that he is well.

This morning, as I looked out of the bathroom window, I spotted him on his regular telegraph pole. He can see me coming out of the house of a morning from this pole, and his screaching calls let me know that he has noticed my presence. If he is very hungry he will immediately fly across to the Hawthorn that grows behind the goose and duck sheds: the first of the poultry that I let out of a morning. He stares at me, and screeches, long and loud: "Feed me, feed me, feed me!" As I approach the sheds he gracefully banks away to the right and glides over my fields, alighting on a fence post. He continues to harry me with his insistent call. I shout in return "You'll have to wait!".

I finish off letting out the poultry, and then I open up the goat sheds, before heading off to get him his meat, his calls still echoing out across the land. I hold the meat high in my hand as I walk out across the field towards him. He never stays in the field to await the arrival of his breakfast, preferring to fly back to the Hawthorn where he has safety and a good view of my actions. He stands, tall and tense, watching my movements, waiting for me to move away. If he is very hungry he will be flying across to the meat before I have even left the field, but on most days he waits until I am well out of the way, putting his security before his hunger pangs.

Today though was different: we once again have torrential driving rain, the sort of rain that drenches you within seconds, stinging your eyes and flesh, making you long to head indoors as soon as possible. My Buzzard was there on his post, as usual, but he was silent, completely silent. He seemed occupied with some strange behaviour: his wings were outspread, as was his tail; he faced directly into the driving wind and rain, his head turning from side to side, his body angled in such a way that he would become saturated on all surfaces. He stayed there for at least half an hour that I saw, and I don't know how long he was there before I first spotted him, just after dawn. The only thing that I can think of is that perhaps he was trying to clear his body of parasites in the way that birds will bathe in dust or water. If anyone has any suggestions as to why he behaved in this way, then please let me know.

Oh What A Change!

2010-03-29T13:52:00.006+01:00

It is surprising just how much the weather can affect us: last night I lay in bed, locked in sleeplessness, listening to the silence. Normally, in this area, the silence would be replaced with the continuous howling of the wind as it whips around the house, catching and disturbing any loose tile, lat of wood or garden furnishing. But last night we had the lull before the storm. My body sensed the imminent tumultuous weather that would hit us during the hours of darkness, and tension flowed through my veins, every nerve in my body on edge. Sleep just wouldn't come. Eventually I fell into a fitful doze, my mind fighting the exhaustion that my body felt. Perhaps this behaviour was a survival strategy from long ago, when our ancestors lived life in caves and tents, and needed to be ever-ready to keep themselves safe. Whatever the reason, it makes me realise just how inexorably we are linked to Mother Nature: a force totally beyond our control.

Yesterday we had beautiful spring weather, the warm sunshine making us discard our coats, but today the rain lashes the windows and once again the wind howls around the house and outbuildings. The chill, and the dampness in the air, eat through to my bones, but I am not disheartened as I know that it is only a temporary blip before once again Spring will clasp us to her vibrant bossom.

If today you are having the same weather as me, I hope this photo of Gorse bathed in sunlight will bring some warmth into your life.

"And then my heart with pleasure fills, And dances with the daffodils"

2010-03-28T20:36:00.003+01:00

Daffodil season has at long last arrived! Normally by now our daffs are on their way out, but winter was so long and harsh this year, causing a delay in all our spring flowers. Last autumn I went daft purchasing bulbs so that I could go into the new year surrounded by colour, and I certainly haven't been disappointed: the beauty of them all is truly breathtaking. I opted mainly for bags of mixed daffodils so that I would have the variety of colour, and also the suprise of not being sure what would pop up where. And what a treat it has been: I have delicate pale lemon ones, bold brassy orange and bright yellow ones, and every shade in between. There are the large blooms on long tough stems with wide trumpets to blast out their glorious scent, multi-headed delicate little ladies sitting daintily amidst their brasher sisters, and pretty petite beauties with long slim bugles of rich orange. Nature is so glorious and so uplifting to the spirits.

Title from William Wordsworth's "I Wander'd lonely as a cloud"