Dover. Southwest 4 to 6, increasing 7 or gale 8 for a time. Thundery showers. Moderate or good, occasionally poor. On Équihen-Plage, the wind angles north east across the beach. The tide is falling. Sand skitters, shimmers, bifurcates and deltas, rattles over the surface. Forming miniscule dunes against every obstacle. Seaweed becomes an embossed reliefContinue reading “Équihen Plage”
Tag Archives: Birds
Blue Tit
Effortless gymnast Seeming weightless, upside-down Iridescent mouse
Winter to Spring
It’s raining as I set off on my walk. Not really wet, just a gentle drizzle. And it’s warmer than I expected, about 8 degrees Centigrade, so I revise my layers, ditching a warm layer for a waterproof one. It feels as if we are at an intersection between winter and spring today. I haveContinue reading “Winter to Spring”
Christmas Shopping
The shopping centre is busy, but not as frantic as you might expect on the last Saturday before Christmas. To me, not particularly drawn to crowds, it makes the experience less gruelling than expected; although I do turn tail when faced with a crowded Marks and Spencer’s food hall. I’m hungry and getting just aContinue reading “Christmas Shopping”
Swan Song
It’s one of the last sticky swan-song days of summer. In the shade of the trees, with the rippling water live-streaming reflections through the willow leaves, it feels as if the day could go on for ever. Only the tell-tale flecks of yellow betray a different story. A jazz-striped dragonfly helicopters past and long-tailed titsContinue reading “Swan Song”
Wren
I’ve been sitting indoors, watching nothing in particular, isolated by my own unwillingness to go out. This is my bubble, double-glazed against sound, the rippling grey clouds that clothe the January sky, the chilling breeze that fingers the trees. The garden is a green waiting room. Not much is happening, except the marking of timeContinue reading “Wren”
Morning Song
The stagnant air is fog-filled, as it has been for weeks. I’m putting out food for the birds when I hear it. A secretive burble of notes, a warm-up routine. It takes a while to find it but then I see a dead-leaf-orange amongst the holly leaves. Its eyes are hidden but I feel itContinue reading “Morning Song”
Winter Visitors
It was a damp, foggy start to the day. Cloud wrapped around us as we started walking along the concrete track. The morning chill fingered its way down the inside of my scarf. Pylons had their heads in the clouds. The wooden humpback bridge over the mud-brown River Thames was slippery and we slowed ourContinue reading “Winter Visitors”
Otmoor
After a slightly frustrating day doing admin, I had an evening out at Otmoor with friends. It was one of those occasions when the different elements of nature conspired to make a perfect performance. On arrival, we were welcomed by a Song Thrush and soon after that a Cuckoo flew across, calling insistently. Two TurtleContinue reading “Otmoor”
Mudwriter 