Two more still life pictures from the dishwasher.
Monthly Archives: April 2013
The dunnock and the robin are among our most common and friendly garden birds. Both are small and the robin is noticeably much smaller than his American cousin.
In the sheep field are the larger birds; the jackdaws, a kestrel, a red legged partridge and a magpie. They are less keen on the camera’s presence and it will be obvious from the quality that these pictures were taken from some distance. Indeed, the kestrel was perched on a tree guard more than 100 yards away.
The jackdaws, who regularly visit in groups of 6 – 10 at this time, are gathering dried grass for nesting.
The red legged partridge came to the edge of the field but, disappointingly, always remained partly concealed by the bars of the fence.
There was something ominous, something almost sinister about the arrival of the starlings – something that revived memories of Hitchcock. They came in waves, wave upon wave, thick clouds of black dots swirling in the breeze, before they alighted in the top branches of every available tree. Their energies restored, they flew down to the sheep field which they attacked with the vigour and enthusiasm of an over-charged vacuum cleaner – much to the consternation of the resident bird population.
The substance of this post was originally published a year or so ago, but the lighting of the image has been modified a little to capture something of the mystery I associate with the Old Man.
Gugh is a small island in the Isles of Scilly off the south west tip of England. It is one km long and 0.5km wide and is joined to the larger island of St Agnes by a sand bar. As a consequence it is accessible only at low tide. There are just two houses on Gugh. The island has several entrance graves, cairns and burial mounds dating from the Bronze Age. The Old Man of Gugh is a menhir (a standing stone) 2.7metres tall and belongs to that period.
I always see in this picture a tall old man with white beard, bracing himself against the strong Atlantic winds. At the stroke of midnight he begins his steady walk of a watchman guarding his territory, returning to his post before the first cock crow.
There is more background information in my post The Isles of Scilly.