March 2018
Having seen my first butterfly and Small Tortoiseshell of the year and it being a day earlier than in 2017 I was hoping for more of the same…and then the snow hit. It was great for the first couple of days – two days off work, strolling back in the dark through the snow, beered up and listening to Iron Maiden (quite a surreal experience), sledging and waling everywhere. But then by the third day it hit me ’it’s March, I should be seeing the hibernators emerge at Five Rivers and Middle Street about now!”. So the very next time it was fine and the temperatures almost reached double figures I was off out…
10-03-2018 Five Rivers
The first available trip out came on the 1oth when I again took Little L over to Five Rivers for a quick afternoon blast round the site. As is usually the way the sun hid from the clouds almost as soon as our feet left the tarmac and gravel often car park and hit the mud of the trail. As we covered the Banks there was no sign of anything stirring. Likely looking dead leaves failed to transform into Commas, dark shapes drifting and gliding by were just leaves and apart from a pair of Bullfinch it was eerily quiet until the weird gurgling screech of a Little Grebe ripped the silence asunder. Giving up I let Little L loose with my camera.
Getting home I warily looked through the images and was quite proud of her efforts; a sombre Crow illustrated the feel of the site, 9 Magpies in a row (the rhyme only goes up to 7 doesn’t it? In which case is this back round to ‘Joy’?) and a picture of what Little L described as an old codge…wait a minute…
13-03-2018 Work
The weather improved through the week every so slowly so that by the Tuesday a trip outside without a coat was doable. So as soon as the pupils left the room for lunch I grabbed my camera and was out of there. I walked across the playing fields, down the path behind the housing estate checking every likely looking leaf on the way. Finally at the half way point along the path just to the right of the concrete steps a pair of blue eyes starred out of the detritus at me, warning me off.
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After the initial record shot which was taken purely due to muscle memory/instinct I stood rooted to the spot just drinking in the moment, savouring that fantastic feeling that ‘this was it, it’s started’. The butterfly took off which jolted me back from my meditative state and I watched it circle round, out across the field and back again. If it had started at 1 o’clock it had now landed at 11 so a wheeled round 180 degrees and cautiously approached surprised at how out of practice I was. Luckily the sun was in so I managed to get several shots by the ‘click, three steps, click…’ method finally getting in reasonably close before the sun came out of hiding and the butterfly headed off across the field to be lost from sight. Still butterfly number two –
Peacock – in the bag.
A cracking lunchtime…
Have a goodun
Wurzel