When we were in Australia, one of the pictures I took was this one. Just leaves under a multi stemmed (rooted?) tree you might think.
Having arrived back in the UK the pictures were perused in more detail and we were amazed to find that a snake had been lurking in the leaves that I had been nonchalantly thrashing around in!
It was while we were wandering in Leighton Moss at the weekend that Q remembered this wild life spotting technique and wondered if we could apply it to our (so far) totally ineffectual efforts to actually see one of the reserve's famous inhabitants, the bittern. That we have failed to see a lot more of the reserve's inhabitants seems insignificant in comparison to our lack of tick against the bittern box.
So ... the idea was that we take LOTS of pictures of the bittern's natural habitat (reeds, reeds and more reeds) and then come home and scrutinise the results for that give-away profile.
Hmmm. it doesn't seem to have worked, or else we are not looking closely enough. That said, we did as always have a great time.
Hmmm, it's just as well I hadn't New Year's resolutioned that I would be more proactive with this blog. However, I have set up a blog Micromeandering which will highlight some of the microscopy I am hoping to do.
Time already seems to be flying in. Term started last week with a rude awakening; a new student, and four consecutive hours of three lectures of physics and one of engineering, and a 9am start to boot. Each of the four days I am in starts at 9, which means getting the bus at 8, and me not the most early morning oriented.
We have decided that after the Christmas over-indulgences we must Try And Reduce Intake. Yesterday was the end of the best stage in this regimen i.e. the EATING of all the scrummy things that we still had that were not conducive to weight loss. Our logic is that once these have disappeared, there will be no temptation. I was discussing this method with younger daughter and she wasn't overly impressed with our system.
Not much snow here but much of the country seems to be grinding to a halt with the cold weather and snowfall. News has been rife with the notions of "sub zero temperatures" and "centimetres of snow", how is it that other countries can cope without all this hype? I suppose I am just in grumpy old woman mode.... Luckily we have had little more than a smattering of the white stuff, though I did have a rather unpleasant snowy journey back from my mother's last weekend.
Yesterday was cold but having layered up into Nanook of the North lookalikes we braved the elements to go to Leighton Moss. The birds had had more sense, and few were about. It did mean however that we were able to identify ALL the birds we saw (the grand total of three - robin, oyster catcher and crow).
The water at Leighton Moss was frozen and the only birds in view from the hide we went into were a couple of crows. The didn't seem to mind wading around in icy water and their behaviour seemed quite strange, almost as if they were trying to have a bath.
We then went into nearby Silverdale for a welcome hot coffee and soup and then a wander along the shore. On our way there I saw my first snowdrops of the year. When I lived in Scotland we always looked for the first snowdrops about now, they always seemed to come out round about my ex mother in law's birthday on the 21st.
Then back home to the warmth and a bird themed jigsaw, not difficult but very satisfying.
We went to Leighton Moss yesterday and just as we got into the hide we heard the magic words "bittern to the right, flying over the field". The bittern is one of those birds which is exceedingly elusive, and each time we go to the reserve Q is desperate to find one. I failed to see any wings of any sort, bitterns or otherwise, Q said she saw a brown blur in the appropriate place, but then rather blew her ornithological knowledge by whispering to me that she didn't realise they could actually fly. Luckily no one else in the hide heard her comment as we were in the company of EXPERTS. The two bittern spotters each had lenses the size of small sheds and as they left to see if they could follow the flight of the bittern a derisory voice was heard saying "Spotters! pah, they're not birders; you need binoculars, not a camera to watch birds properly". We didn't have our binoculars; but even if we had remembered them, they would not have passed muster in such erudite company. We did have our cameras, but again our paltry lenses couldn't put us in any spotters' league. Anyway we don't really spot let alone identify many birds unless they stay still for about 5 minutes.
The robins of Leighton Moss are not at all camera shy and are willing little posers. The top left robin was flitting about near the reed beds and came and ate food out of one of the visitor's hands.
The marsh tit was a first - luckily for us there was an identification board right near the picnic table.
It's a long time since I have seen a greenfinch.
The reasons for the cages around some of the feeders became apparent!
The down was a sitting down. I believe that it is impossible to sit on a bookcase full of books without realising (even if said bookcase has somehow been swathed in a jacket carelessly thrown at it). The worst that a book can suffer under said carelessly strewn jacket and then my backside, is a creased page or folded cover. The same cannot be said of a Kindle alas! This I found to my cost the other day. As I recovered the Kindle I saw to my horror that the screen now resembled Etch a Sketch on a high, and accessing any of the scores of books I have stored on it was a total none starter. Yes, I had managed to sit on a virtual bookcase of books.
A lesson learnt the hard way, though at the end of the day, the Kindle is just part of the physical "stuff" that fills our lives, useful and fun but not essential. Luckily for me I was able to go out and get a replacement, and thanks to the wonders of technology all my books were still out there in the ether for me to restock the virtual shelves.
The up is absolutely not "stuff" that can be easily replaced; it was seeing the wonderful spectacle of a starling murmuration. We went out to Leighton Moss one afternoon last week and watched the amazing massed balletics of thousands of starlings as they gathered into a huge crescendo of movement before finally all coming to land in the reed beds.
Attempts at capturing it all on camera merely give a taste of what it was like. Distance and fading light were not conducive to getting good images.
Such was the spectacle that we went again yesterday to see the incredible sight. We put cameras aside and immersed our eyes in the experience. It started with small cohorts of birds which gradually joined forces to form a huge shape shifting pattern, serpent like sliding over the hill top and then morphing into a great fish like creature ebbing and flowing as more birds joined. As the light caught wings and bodies there was a constant flux of pattern and motion. For their finale, we saw a turn in direction as the shape became a funnel and the birds poured themselves into their night time reed bed roost.
Recently, as I have looked at the blog, the time since the last posting becomes more daunting and off putting. Today, I have decided to cast caution to the wind and start writing and stop the gap. It will probably be a bit of flit about like the dragonflies we saw on Sunday. They were not the iridescent blue ones we saw at Leighton Moss earlier in the year; these ones seemed to have much more cumbersome bodies, possible Hawkers. Constantly on the move, it was impossible to take a photo of them as they dashed and dived among the reeds. Somehow, none of their wings seemed to beat in synchrony as they provided the action while the ducks and coots swam calmly about their business in the background. On our last visit the black headed gulls were in full nesting and breeding swing, raucous and noisy, Sunday's visit was much quieter.
Sunday was sunny, typical really, as it was the last day of our fortnight's holiday and the first full day's sun we had seen during that time. Wales, camping and current recent weather did not seem the ideal combo for a holiday idea so we had a change of plan and booked a converted Wesleyan Chapel in the Yorkshire Dales for a week. So, although it did rain, we didn't get too wet apart from getting spectacularly soaked at Bedale. The drenching was certainly more memorable than the place.
Stop start videos. I've been doing a bit of experimenting of late. Videos through the microscope, both time lapse and conventional, and then some playing around with a whizzy little app on the Ipad that will do time lapse/stop motion stuff..
Drops of water from the trays the sundew and pitcher plants sit in have shown there is a hive of activity going on in there with all manner of things whizzing and whirring around. The difficulty is in getting it all in focus, and trying to follow them around is almost a none starter.
The ferns seem to be getting settled in the new raised bed and are beginning to spore. I brought some fronds in and managed to get some time lapse of sporangia exploding out their spores. Who can say plants are boring?
The stop motion app is providing plenty of displacement activity!
An outing to the RSPB reserve at Leighton Moss on Saturday, a glorious day for us to attempt to hone our bird watching skills. First stop however, the coffee shop in order to gather our strength to make attempts to mingle in with the experts. We don't need giant L plates on our backs, our junior status as budding birders is evident from our lack of state of the art and enormous equipment; cameras and spotting scopes with lenses so large that we would require sherpas if we were to cope. Some of the camoflauged equipment toted around looks as if it comes with its own built in hide and tea making facilities.
After coffee we make off to the feeder area. A great spot for children, and fantastic for us as we can learn by osmosis as birds at the feeders are identified by knowledgeable parents. This experience can become heightened when rather large rats encroach on the rejected seeds tossed out by the birds. Though yesterday, no rats, just some rather self satisfied looking pheasants and ducks scrabbling about.
Then onwards to one of the many hides in the reserve and a slow meander through trees and a glimpse of a coal tit.
Wandering along the reed beds as the camera shy bittern totally eluded us, a robin willing to pose and, importantly, sit still, came to the rescue.
Into a hide and a quick recce to determine the best bench for least disturbance. Finding one next to a window already open is always a plus, otherwise you risk crashing the hinged window at that crucial moment when some exceedingly rare bird is being watched by those aficionados with the mega lenses. (Oh... and do remember to switch that mobile phone off....)
Ideally, it is best to have the place to yourself, that way you can misidentify birds with aplomb and bring out your I Spy Birds book without fear of derision.
