The Bald Birder

Day 340

Tuesday 23 February

Classic middle of the week. Get up, go to work, come home, eat, crash. Don’t get me wrong, it’s been a good day, but I’ve missed the outdoors and the ability to get out and enjoy it. Came home and watched the football on the telly, still no fans allowed, it’s been the weirdest of seasons.

The Stour, Saturday. Really missed the outdoors and our walks of last week. Looking forward to the weekend and some more fine weather, fingers crossed.

One of the great things about being a teacher is the breaks we get. I stopped trying to justify them to other people a long time ago. “Yeah, it’s great. Why? Don’t you get the same number of days as we get?” I would say to counter my non-teacher friends and acquaintances. “Oh, you should have become a teacher, instead of a banker/accountant/financier (basically anyone earning more than me).

I don’t get the six figure salary, or the bonuses, or any of the other perks of their jobs. I don’t get to leave my work at work, or ease into each day with a trip to Starbucks. But I do get to do a job I know impacts positively on others lives, does good and fills my soul-cup each day.

Teaching is a tough gig. It rewards, yes, but it can also tear you up in the heart and the head. But would I swap it for something else? None of the jobs I mentioned above, that’s a fact.

Dealing with the fall-out of yesterday’s announcements from the government today. Still lots of detail to be delivered around testing, exams, catch-up learning. This week we will re-adjust the risk assessment whilst also keeping staff focussed on the teaching and learning.

And still, outside my office window, the birds feed and sing, and flutter from branch to food to branch again. And I am thankfully doing a job that is hard work, but refills my cup everyday.

Just laying in bed with a book and the radio on. Colchester United have just announced that they have sacked the manager. It was coming.

Day 339

Today has been all about the announcement that Boris Johnson was going to make this afternoon and evening. The much anticipated ‘road-map’ out of lockdown.

Scotland, Wales and Northern Ireland have all explained bits of what they are doing but this is the one that explains what England will do and what the UK will do where developed government doesn’t have jurisdiction.

So, at the end of the day many people left work pretty much on the dot of 3.30pm to listen to the PM say his stuff on their way home or when they got home. He spoke in parliament first then to the country this evening.

It’s going to be a four stage approach that he claims will be irreversible, a ‘one way journey’ back to normality. Sounds really good to hear that, and I think everyone is desperately hoping that will be the case.

https://www.bbc.com/news/science-environment-56158928

But despite all of this there is always room for a bit of balance – some other news. Firstly, some amazing video of the NASA Mars rover landing on the red planet. It’s still quite breathtaking to think that as a species we are able to do that.

Another image from outback garden yesterday. Green shoots of optimism.

Secondly, the weather has been disappointingly drab today. Grey and overcast, but it has been noticeably mild and dry, and although it wasn’t a patch on the weekend it has at least been on the same track. A one-way road to spring?

Day 338

Sunday 21 February

1.15pm What a remarkable day it has been so far? The sun has been out all day, at times illuminating an occasional milky white sky, but the warmth it radiates is felt on the face and in the soul.

I did the first grass cut of the back lawn today. I cannot explain how good that made me feel. Sitting on the bench with a cup of tea, as the warming breeze gently swept over it, my spirits were injected with spring sensations. The smell of warm, freshly cut grass was such a heady aroma. Add to that the sound of the birdsong all around and the light – so much sunlight – a moment to simply sit and take it all in.

And all the shrubs were showing off their new shoots. Dipping their toes tentatively into the end of season air. But, and I hate myself for saying it, but, we are still in February. It’s a thought that brings my feet floating back down to terra firma. We have had snow in March and April before.

But (there’s that word again), I am going to revel in this sensory fiesta right now. And two bumble bees fly overhead like they have stuff to do.

4.45pm Just been for our dog walk, later in the day than usual because the days are that little bit longer now. There were plenty of people out walking, some with dogs and some without, but all minus scarves, hats or gloves. Less than a fortnight ago we were walking the exact same paths ankle deep in snow. Mabel didn’t even have her fleece on!

We bumped into friends. Friends we would normally give a hug to but we remained two-metres apart. It was a reminder that although the weather may have changed, and the weeks and months have ticked over, the situation remains the same.

Tomorrow is a big day. Back to school for the second half of the term, back to our locked-down arrangements with reduced pupils attending and rota’d staff lists. But, in the afternoon, the prime minister is delivering the much anticipated road-map out of lockdown. All reports suggest he wants to announce an ‘irreversible’ loosening of restrictions. We will see.

Day 337

Saturday 20 February

“It was one of those golden days which every now and again leak out of paradise and drip to earth. Spring had been late in coming, but now it was here with a burst, and the whole world was boiling with the sap of life. Never have I seen such a wealth of spring flowers, or such vividness of green, or heard such melodious business among the birds in the hedgerows; this walk through the meadows was a jubilee of festal ecstasy.” From ‘And No Bird Sings’ by E F Benson

Today it feels as if Spring has arrived early. Temperature in the early/mid-teens. The sun is out and even the abundance of hazy, scattered clouds don’t block it’s view of us and everything around us.

As we walk, despite deliberately minimising our layers of clothing before we left the house, zips and buttons are undone and we end up carrying jackets, scarves and hats that are no longer needed. We also slow down making a relatively short walk feel much longer. Partly due to the temperature but also because we simply want to soak in the vitamin D and enjoy the beauty of it all.

“such melodious business among the birds”

And all of a sudden, I feel like I may be returning to the blog posts I used to write. When I started putting these posts together Spring had sprung and my focus was elsewhere. This time, I am in the privileged position of ‘being their’ when nature is reborn. Like an expectant father I am excited to be there when it all happens.

Some vegitation is starting to form buds and shoots now. The more hardy, woody trees and shrubs are the first to show.

As the trees and plants bud and shoot, so the insects reappear, we could easily see some butterflies by the end of the month. And of course, when the insects appear, the birds are never far behind. And it feels as though the recent birdsong, triggered by the gradual lengthening of daylight-time, was the audible alarm clock waking everything up.

The Pine Ladybird (*Exochomus quadripustulatus)* wintering in the bark crevices of a deciduous tree on the bank of a sun-sprayed Stour estuary today. Distinct red ‘commas’ on it front wingcases make it an easily identifiable bug.

Adora went on a walk with her friend this afternoon having plotted the route last night with me. Nothing too challenging, but a start. And I am hoping that both her and Stan appreciate the value of the simple act of walking in the countryside. Forget the fact that it contributes towards physical good health, but the priceless opportunity to talk, socialise and allow your senses to be tickled is so important.

The government are gradually releasing teasers of what changes we could expect after lockdown restrictions ease after March 8th. The priority, they say, is to get schools back in full operation. But they have announced today that one regular visitor will be allowed to see loved ones in care homes. Dad will be happy as he will be able to see Mum again.

Day 336

Friday 19 February

What’s become apparent over this past few months is how each day spent at home is centred around our dog walk. It provides something we can all look forward to and for us all to do together. The other time is when we sit for our evening meal. In between, and on the whole, we are in different parts of the house doing our own things.

Snowdrops nodding in the breeze.

Reflections, recollections and thoughts come either side of this when sat on the sofa. Often with the dog lay next to me with her head on my lap. But the time to clear my head and just take some time-out happens when we’re out walking.

Today I have been thinking back to the drama of yesterday and grateful that Mum is safely back at the home. Also, Dad has his computer back online and was able to Skype my brother and sister-in-law in Italy. Adora has been baking again, for a friend this time. Stan is anticipating his next university webinar tomorrow morning.

Last night I started feeling really achy across my shoulders, neck and arms. Then through the rest of my body. When I got into bed I had the shivers and I woke with a thumping headache. I took paracetamol before bed and then again this morning. Fallout of the vaccination yesterday.

Fortunately we are getting towards the end of February and the snowdrops were out in force today. The stems of daffodils and narcissi are also pushing through, soon to trumpet their bright arrival on the springtime scene.

The footbridge at Stratford St Mary. A very unnerving crossing and a place with an uncomfortable feel too. Dare I say eerie?

As we walked through Stratford St Mary today we crossed the ever so precarious concrete bridge that spans the river Stour. It is a scary bridge, feeling like you could slip through the railings with every step of the wellie boots. If not, the gushing water could sweep the whole thing away at and moment. It’s also got an odd feeling to it.

Last night, NASA successfully landed a rover on the surface of Mars.

Yesterday, Lisa shared with me this wonderful online entertainment. Puddles Pity Party and The Postmodern Jukebox.

What’s the link? Just that there is still so much great stuff going on out there that us humans are responsible for.

Day 335

Thursday 18 February

It’s 9.30am and I am sitting in my car in the car park of the Colchester United stadium. The blustering wind is gently rocking the car and the broken clouds slide across the sky at pace, allowing the sun to flittingly reveal itself.

I’ve just had my first vaccination against Covid-19. In and out in about five minutes and now have to stay put for fifteen further minutes to see if any immediate side effects materialise. Then the phone rings.

It’s my sister. With dogs yapping in the background and her very much at work, she tells me that she has just received a phone call from Mum’s care home. Mum has had another seizure and has been taken to hospital, this time a carer has accompanied her in the ambulance. I’ll go there later today, if I am allowed to.

12.40pm I’ve called the hospital as they are not allowing visitors due to the lockdown. Only one primary carer can attend, which I guess is why the home sent someone with Mum this time round. Last time, I went and spent the day with Mum, I felt then as if they were allowing me to be there as a favour. This time things are much different.

Mum is heading back to the care home after all the necessary tests have been done. The suspicion is that this is a further development of her Alzheimer’s, meaning the brain simply shuts down. I’ve just realised how we refer to these illnesses as being ‘owned’ by the person; ‘her Alzheimer’s’, ‘she has got it’. I wonder why that is? I suppose the alternatives are much more clinical or negative? ‘Infected with..’ or ‘suffering from..’.

Anyway, it’s a horrible thing. She survived Covid-19, but her dementia persists. The headlines are taken by the ‘new infection on the block’, but the old-timers are still there going strong.

Driving home earlier, I was aware of how being rocked by worrying news intensifies what the senses take in and how the brain churns it over. The music I was listening to, lyrics and instrumentation, seemed more emotive than normal. The way the weather pulled and played on the trees and the telegraph cables. The way the birds were being pulled and pushed about in flight. Even the way people walking along pavements, slightly hunched, drew hoods over their heads and gripped them at the sides to prevent them being blown back down. It’s a classic autumn day, but in winter, just as spring is starting to show itself.

Drawing a line in the sky. Our walk started in cold air and finished in warm air.

3.45pm We’ve just returned from our walk this afternoon. Lovely open space with big skies. The wind is sweeping in from the south-west dragging warm air, this is chasing a body of cold, cloudy air ahead of it.

I love the simplicity of weather systems. They can produce such dramatic views and this afternoon the two fronts delivered; one was cold and receding, the other was warm and advancing. So, part way round we all stopped, closed our eyes and faced the sunshine letting the light soak into our skin and light up behind our eyelids. We just stood there and everything calmly halted for the briefest of moments.

Day 334

Wednesday 17 February

I’ve spent all morning doing a jigsaw. It is one of those activities that casually exercises the brain. It’s the mental equivalent of a long walk; nothing too strenuous, but enough to know you’ve done something and not been idle.

Midway through the half term and the word is that schools will be returning on 8th March but to what extent we’re not completely sure. Probably primary and the exam years of eleven and thirteen. We will find out on Monday when the government presents its road-map out of lockdown.

I am wary of this tipping into a dog blog, but Mabel has been a much appreciated distraction during this past year. Homage to Mabel.

Just got back from our walk. So, looking forward to it getting warmer and brighter in the weeks and months ahead.

Watched two raptors doing their thing this afternoon. A buzzard hunting rabbits above the slowly greening fields. It would drop then strain to flap it’s wings, lumbering like a duvet being shaken over a bed. Gradually gaining height before soaring and descending again covering a new patch of soil below.

Not my picture – https://www.birdguides.com/gallery/birds/falco-tinnunculus/341472/

Then across the same field, a kestrel had strayed too close to a murder of crows that were scavenging the soil. One pretty determined bird launched itself from the scattering pack and set out to usher the clearly unwelcome falcon away. The coming together although mostly clumsy looking, as you’d expect from what was effectively a fight, also resembled a 1950’s hop. Nevertheless, it was effective and the corvid prevailed wheeling away and back to the soil and a seat at the high table in the middle of the shadowy cluster of its peers.

On our way back, we waited at the railway crossing in the village. The high speed trains from London to Norwich whizzed past. The barriers lifted allowing us (and the cars) across. But. It really is unnerving crossing a rail track.

Day 333

Tuesday 16 February

The members of the Gentlemen’s Film and Leisure Club have had a lockdown photo competition. We all submitted five snow themed photos to the group and we await the result of the jury. Not exactly sure who the jury are, but its exciting nonetheless.

Erica and Lyndon have a new lodger in their place in Italy. Mediterranean House Gecko (Hemidactylus turcicus). Probably come inside to shelter from the colder, damper weather. Their may also be a feast of moths and cockroaches available who are also attracted to the well-lit houses. So, a great lodger to have, and considered good luck in their native homes of Turkey and Cyprus. Be kind to him, both.

My sister in law has been advising me on a camera for my birthday in May. I’ve mentioned before how this year has thrown into focus [poor pun] how much I have enjoyed taking pictures of the things I see around me. Mostly of the natural world. Everything in this blog has been taken on my phone but I think I’ll step it up after the blog ends in March.

Over the past couple of weeks conversations with Stan have become quite serious. University has been the main topic but we have also talked politics (UK and US), learning to drive led on to personal liberty, social inequality and the list goes on. But our most earnest and potentially important topic of discussion has been survival-planning for a zombie apocalypse.

A soggy day today, so a picture of my incredible family last week. Precious time.

We have decided on what tools, food and weapons we would take. We know we would only be able to manage a backpack each, especially as we would have the dog (who would be wearing an adapted harness with knives and forks attached). We have even decided on what jackets we would wear (most bite resistant).

Seriously, this lockdown has given us all time to be together. And as the weeks and months pass, we get closer to Stan heading to university in September. Next year it will be Adora’s turn. We have always been a close family, but I doubt we would have spent quite this much time as just the four of us. I am grateful of this ‘enforced’ family time, especially as I heard today of a tragic situation where someone else’s family has been torn apart by a suicide. We have really gotten to know the young adults that our wonderful kids are becoming and continue to be hugely grateful for what we have.

And Adora made pancakes on Shrove Tuesday. Not just any pancakes. We are so very lucky.

Really miserable day weather-wise. Low cloud, drizzle and showers made for a soggy dog-walk. But time to do the jigsaw, read and drink tea. Not so bad.

Day 332

Monday 15 February

Last night, shortly before 11pm, I was locking the house up getting ready to head upstairs to bed. Standing at the backdoor, failing miserably to persuade Mabel to trot outside for her ‘final wee’, I heard ducks.

There were definitely ducks flying outside in the pitch black sky, which was also tipping down with rain. The weather had virtually flipped in a few hours. The wind had changed from easterly to south-westerly, bringing warmer and wetter air from the southern Atlantic. So why the ducks?

We spotted two of these decorated stones on our walk yesterday.

It seems that ducks, and pretty much every other species of waterfowl, migrate and move location at night. Come to think of it, I thought, I rarely see water birds flying during the daylight. Only the very local little fits and starts along a shoreline or edge of a waterway.

They move inland during the Winter to roost in more sheltered spots. And when they arrive from harsher climates to over winter in the UK, again, they do so under the cover of darkness. Moorhen, coots, water rails, and redshank are often flying at night as are geese, But why at night? Well often it can simply be that they have been disturbed but it could also be that it is simply less risky due to the lack of predators after dark.

Waking this morning, I lay in bed with a feeling that the day ahead should be one of work. Over the past few months the separation between workplace and home has become fuzzy. Today is Monday, and although it is half-term it feels like I should get the laptop out. Fortunately, the rest of the family will be enjoying a week off too so I will be in good company for distraction.

Something pleasingly serene about this. Where the Essex Way takes a detour around the church at Boxted, past a few cottages, this was outfacing on the pathway. The owners didn’t have to, but they kindly did.

The temperature has changed massively, it’s risen to about 10°c today. The first time it’s gone above freezing for a week or more. Along with it, the rain. The remaining snow had melted by mid-morning. Back to soggy, muddy walks, boots and paws.

Day 331

Sunday 14 February

I’ve noticed how the birds really bring movement to the views at this time of year. The scenery is pretty empty of movement in the winter. Mostly this is because the trees and hedgerows are skeletal with little to no foliage. Even the strongest winds produce nothing but sound.

A pipe of ice.

But the hops and skips of the songbirds along the fringes of fields, the aerial ballet of gulls above the ploughed soil provide some much appreciated animation.

Around woods and copses, crows and rooks scatter from their high perches in slow moving crowds. Before slowly circling, realising there is no threat, and returning to a new spot on the same trees.

Every so often some new character comes along. Last week a buzzard launched itself into the air, dragging itself up to the height of two end-to-end telegraph poles before catching the easterly wind in its primary feathers and broad tail. Within a few seconds it was just a dot in the low sky.

The bitterly easterly winds have done little to melt the snow or raise the temperatures. This surface of this pond was still frozen.

I must have done something good this week, I’m a firm believer that good things come to those that deserve them. As we emerged from a public footpath onto a lane, an equally stark shadow came into view. This shape, however, was sharper, slicker, cleaner edges. A week defined wing tip and the unmistakable forked tail. This beautifully gracefull Red Kite was also making use of the icy cold easterly breeze.

It too was at a thankfully low altitude, allowing me to see the twitches in its tail and pitching of its wings to plough up and down the fields searching for rabbits and other mammals. As it methodically surveyed the open space below I fumbled for my phone to take a picture. Not quick enough, the wind is cold and quick.

It’s not much, but the very gentle ups and downs of the fields around Boxted provide new views at the end of footpaths.

Our walk today took in the next ‘chunk’ of the Essex Way. It brought us around the back of Boxted, a hugely overlooked part of the county. The dips and slopes lead to trickling brooks and viewscapes that seem unfamiliar to the flat, mono-landscape we’re used to.