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Thursday, 21 April 2016

The Buzzard Above Our House.

There was actually two buzzards circling each other when Carole called to me. I came out with the camera and began trying to use the zoom lens as they drifted away. At first I thought the lower one had something in its beak? However as I studied the photos, the raptor's wing feathers look damaged. Perhaps it had been in a fight of some sort. 

Some of the creature's flight feathers appear to be missing. I think the pair are nesting by some trees across the Fen, close to the river. 

When You Sense the Day will be Wonderful

I got up on the Tuesday of April 19th 2016. It was a glorious morning and as I looked out from my front drive across the fields, I decided that I should get a photo on the mobile camera. As one can see the morning mist on the Fen, there was a promise of a fine day because the dew is already rising. Or at least that is what I like to believe. Tuesdays are also wonderful days at work. We go out into these far flung fields and empty the bins. We make our way into two small villages right on the Lincolnshire boarder.

One hamlet is called Newton and the other is Tydd St Giles. Both are very tranquil English villages - quiet and modest nestled amid the farmlands of the Fens.

As the day went along it got better with the sun climbing towards the afternoon zenith. The birds were tweeting away and there was a light breeze. We loaded bins for about four hours following the lorry as it slowly moved along the country lanes. We stopped by an old church in Newton for a cup of tea and a sandwich. I walked around and took a few more shots on the mobile. 

Afterwards we worked our way along the country lanes where fields of rapeseed were brilliant yellow. Gradually we edged closer to the little village of Tydd St Giles. I had to stop here and take a few more shots of their old church too. We moved on and finally finished just outside of the village. The lorry was full and we took a last brake before returning to the town of March where the rubbish tip is.

Newton's Church

Tydd St Giles Church

The Pre-War Riley Car Paint Stripped Down to Metal

As we were finishing our bin loading round on Wednesday 20th April 2016, we came out of the village of Wimblington into the village of Doddingtopn in the Fenland of Cambridgeshire. It was a glorious day and we had been out in the rural parts of the land. We were content and feeling happy as the last bin went in the lorries' bin lifts. 

We decided to pull into a small lay by further up the road as one enters the village of Doddington. There on the drive of a cottage was parked a pre-war open topped Riley car. It was stripped of paint work and I suppose the owner was midway through a restoration of the beautiful looking motor.

I had a walk around it and took a few shot on the mobile phone camera. See what you think of the old Riley car?

Wednesday, 20 April 2016

It Must Be Him - Vikki Carr

I told my wife that on my lighter moments, I like to think she sings this while waiting for me to call from work.

She replies, "No way."

But I don't believe her. :D

Sunday, 17 April 2016

The Ironclad Sinks (SciFi Adaptation Story of HMS Thunder Child)

Thunder Child Adaptation SciFi Story
In Print and on KindleUSA (Also KindleUnlimited)

There was a bellow of protesting iron as it buckled under the sea's pressure - surrendering to the water's hissing legion of bubbling effervescence that danced up and burst with wicked delight - gathering the noble ironclad and pulling it down to it's murky base.

Monday, 28 March 2016

Marsh Harrier at Holkham Wildlife Reserve - Norfolk, England.

Carefully I crept through a line of conifer trees to look out over the lake towards Holkham village. I had seen a number of raptors and was feeling rather pleased with myself. However, Carole said she had seen one go over the tree tops towards the marshland. Her eyes are better than mine and she does spot the birds of prey and point me in the right direction.

As I came to the edge of the wood I looked up and saw a marsh harrier almost hovering. It was because the bird was battling the wind. This made its progress slow and I was almost underneath it. I began to click away with the camera and I'm positive the creature knew I was there. In some of the shots, I'm sure it is keeping an eye on me.

As I come to the edge of the woods and look up

I focus in and it seems the bird is standing still against the head on wind

Very slowly it moves forward

The wind seems too strong

It wobbles but faces the blustering wind

Then I begin to suspect it is aware of me

Its looking down at me

It knows I'm here

I'm sure it is not happy about my presence

The Buzzard and the Crow in Air Battle

Turning off to the beach at Brancaster in Norfolk I was met with a fantastic sight. I was on the way to Holkham Hall Estate for a day out, but I always bring my camera for the birds of prey. I don't know why but they fascinate me. As the car went along the rough road, Carole called my attention to a bird of prey. It was either a buzzard or a marsh harrier.

I stopped the car and quickly got out my camera. The two birds were at some distance but this was no courting of birds of prey. It was an Ariel battle between a crow and, I think, a buzzard. 

I'm no lover of crows because they are every where. As a dustman, I see them in large numbers at the land fill sight when we empty the Fenland's rubbish. The tips are full of all sorts of carrion birds. Crows, ravens, rooks and various types of seagull too. To me they are dirty. Yet they are also necessary in our eco system. They clean things up and it is perhaps, us that are dirty with our refuse.

I think a buzzard or marsh harrier could hold it own against a crow. They are hunters with sharp talons. However, in the air the crow seems more manoeuvrable and intelligent. It always seems to fly behind the bird of prey to harass and worry the raptor. Its as though the crow knows to keep its distance but to swoop near by and from the rear to annoy the larger hunting bird.

The buzzard will glide and try to manoeuvre alongside the carrion crow but there always seems to be a way of twisting and turning to fall back behind the buzzard. Eventually the buzzard gets driven off.