Half-term. Naturally it’s been grey, raining and miserable. I’ve had painting to do anyway, but yesterday when things finally brightened up, I needed to leave a coat of emulsion to dry and so took the opportunity to stretch my legs.
When I walked home via Jenny Brown’s Point a couple of weeks ago I noted some coiled green cylinders poking through a roadside verge and assumed that they were cuckoo pint leaves. The cuckoo pint leaves are now beginning to unfurl….
I’ve been enjoying the return of birdsong on my walks for a while now, but yesterday the birds seemed to be particularly….well – full of the joys of spring. This robin….
…alighted on a branch just behind me in the hedge, less then a yard away, and was quite happy to pose for a photo whilst in full voice. In Eaves Wood, a bewildering variety of songs almost always seemed to trace back to great tits, but one insistent chip, chip, chip alerted me to the presence of this chaffinch which eventually settled into a more familiar throaty song.
Clearly, at the tail end of February it would be a bit previous of me to announce the arrival of spring, but it can’t be denied that something is afoot.
New life is thrusting its way into the light.
The hazel catkins, with us since the dim dying days of last year, have opened out and taken on a pink tinge.
I’m often impressed by the colour of this tree trunk. Or perhaps it would be more accurate to say, by the colour of the lichen covering this tree trunk?
And, with no leaves on the surrounding trees, the sun shining, and a nice contrast provided by the leaf litter, this was a perfect chance to snap a picture.
I only paused briefly by the Pepper Pot…
…before making my way down through the wood and then the village to the Cove.
Another very bold robin sat on one of the benches above the Cove, inches away from a couple of walkers who had stopped for a rest. The Lots were very busy with couples, families and dog-walkers – everyone was making the most of the clement weather whilst it lasted.
I always admire this rooftop clock-tower when I pass it, which is often, but I don’t think that it has ever made it into my blog before. It’s an extension of, and across the road from Bleasdale House. The house is now a residential school, but was formerly a convalescent home for the Bradford Dyer’s Association, a Red Cross hospital during the First World War, and before that a private home. (These facts gleaned from David Peters ‘In and Around Silverdale’). Could this have been part of a stable block?
The weather vane…
…seems to portray some sort of mythical beast. A griffin? A phoenix? A dragon? I’m really not sure. And what does it have in its mouth?