We have been feeling a bit cooped up lately. You know how it is. Over summer you get used to having decent weather to wander around in, then things start to go downhill and you start to wait for a break in the clouds before you venture out. Thinking back to winter, when The Dog and I wandered far and wide whatever inclemency of the elements, put me to shame. So, today we set off determined to ignore mere hail, sleet and tempest, of which luckily, there was none.
At the level crossing we turned and went up the hill to see if the alpacas were up and about, they were at the farther end of their paddock, so not available for comment. We decided to carry on round the block and give our legs a proper stretch. At the bottom of the hill we came across a guy with a fancy theodolite. In response to our greeting he replied that yes, he was surveying for a new motorway and that he would probably have to move the railway line too and no, it wasn’t a GPS, the prism thing on the pole worked with that laser over there. He was busy, so we left him and carried on down past the olfactory experience of the pig farm.
In the hedge, just upwind of the piggery, we noticed this wild rose climbing around amongst the bushes. Does this reminded any one else of the first few lines from Mac the Knife – in The Threepenny Opera?
Socrates on the other hand, is a tame, pink blend tea rose.
Today’s picture is a Song Thrush. He was singing out of the middle of a very large pine tree and I just couldn’t find him.
Jackie was busy, so The Dog and I set off on our own. We went round to the level crossing to see if there were any trains, but there weren’t. We decided to go on up to the top of the hill and say “Hi!” to the alpacas. Going up the hill past all the rabbit holes in the bank, gives The Dog a chance to pretend that she’s the real thing. We reached the top and found that the alpacas were otherwise engaged and not in their field, perhaps we should have phoned. We felt that we might as well go on round the block, so we did. On the way to the corner where we turn back down past the pig farm it started to drizzle. As we approached the corner, we could hear birdsong, at the corner it was obvious that whoever was making all that racket, was in the big pine tree.
We pointed the camera in the general direction and made a short movie. The lens was immediately covered in raindrops. Finally, we found the source of the singing and after drying the camera off, we took a few pictures.
The video was a blurred but interesting collection raindrops arriving at random intervals. The wind noise all but obliterated the birdsong – but after striping the sound off the movie and filtering everything below a thousand cycles out – we have the little sound clip attached below.