Today’s picture shows our neighbour Guthrie enjoying life.
It had snowed a little in the night and it was near zero again when we got up but it still didn’t amount to anything serious. The present spell of cold but mainly dry weather has lasted for about 12 days and although the sun has disappeared again recently, we are very grateful to be able to walk about in the dry. The little snow showers have not lasted any great length of time and it has crept above freezing every day.
There was enough snow about to make Mrs Tootlepedal decide to walk to church rather than cycle when she went to sing in the choir. By coincidence, the minister preached a sermon based on Les Miserables. Mrs Tootlepedal wasn’t entirely clear about his message but he seemed to be for being good rather than bad.
I lounged around in a hot bath while she was out, being neither good not bad and when she retuned, I was ready to make a cup of coffee. This gave me an opportunity to feeder surf.
I may not think much of the snow but it certainly makes the birds eat a lot of seed.
A brambling was today’s supervisor
A chaffinch checking out seat availability
The coffee was needed because after I had fuelled up and put the camera down, I sat down to have a final attack on the talk. This took me another five hours but in the end I did get it done. Far from being too short as I had originally feared, it is probably a bit too long and Mrs Tootlepedal has changed roles. Whereas before she was encouraging me to get stuff written down, now she is under orders to issue a severe rebuke if she catches me trying to sneak any more in. It is good to get it done and I now have four days to practise delivery issues. This is always a tricky business because as you read it over, it is all too easy to lose confidence in the material that looked so fresh when you first wrote it. You just have to keep your nerve, though a little polishing of the text never comes amiss.
I had to have a break in the middle of the work and I packed up the cameras and walked round the Kilngreen and the pheasant hatchery to give the brain a break.
It felt cold, possibly because the humidity was quite high but it was pleasant enough for a Sunday afternoon stroll. As I crossed the suspension bridge, I could see that lack of rain had led to the river level dropping low enough to expose a pipe.
It was going slowly enough to allow these twigs to freeze up nicely.
There was no heron at the Kilngreen but the gulls were unusually placid and let me get very close.
These are black headed gulls
They do get black heads in the summer.
I walked along quite comfortably as even when the paths were snow covered, they were not slippery.
Under the trees there was no snow at all.
I allowed myself yet one more mossy tree picture because I thought the gentle fabric like covering of moss on this tree was quite beautiful.
Walking along the path at the end of the trees gave me a good view of a very chilly looking hillside.
When I arrived at the bank of the river Esk, a flash of white on the far bank caught my eye. I tried to catch it with the camera.
It was a stoat (or possibly a weasel but as far as I can see most probably a stoat) scampering along beside the river in the gloom of the overhanging trees and shrubs. It ducked and dived as it went along, disappearing and reappearing at intervals. I tried to get focussed on where I guessed that it would next appear but the low light and the speedy beast made things difficult.
I followed it along the river for a while…
…until it turned to climb the bank, showing its black tail very clearly…
…and disappeared into a burrow. This was a first for me as I haven’t had an opportunity like this since I acquired a camera. I was only sorry that the sky was so overcast but perhaps if it had been a brighter day, the stoat wouldn’t have been running about in the open. I waited for a while but it didn’t reappear so I contented myself with a shot a wall on the opposite bank which I had never noticed before.
I have looked at that bank many times without ever realising that there was a wall there.
The water was running slowly in the Esk but it was so clear that you might not realise that the stones in the picture below are on the bed of the river. (No polarising filter in use.)
I made my way home very satisfied with my walk, pausing for a final shot of a snowy Warbla as I crossed the Scholars Field.
As I may have mentioned before, the mast on the top of the hill is certainly conspicuous but it is responsible for bringing us Danish TV dramas so it is forgiven.
The walk made a refreshing interlude in the talk preparation and after a cup of tea and a birthday biscuit, I soon got back to work. When I had finished, I made myself fish and fried potatoes for tea. When we were shopping yesterday, I visited a fish counter with a fine array of unfamiliar and exciting fish on it but somehow when I put my hand out to try something unknown and new, it came back with a fillet of haddock in it. I am not very adventurous when it comes to food.
My walk did let me get a non chaffinch flying bird of the day for a change.
What a wonder photo opportunity with the Stoat well done, I’m very envious!
I’m looking forward to hear the finished talk.
Don’t get too excited. I wouldn’t like you to be disappointed.
I’ve never heard of, or seen, a stoat before – so interesting. It looks ghostly!
It certainly was exceedingly white.
The reason your birds eat so much is because of all the exercise they get flying around your feeders. I had to look up what a stoat is, over here, they are called short tailed weasels. All in all though, a very good day of photography!
I often consider the equation between energy used and food obtained but it must work out in the birds’ favour or they would be all lying round dead in the garden.
I will defer to your superior mathematics skills!
At least you know where the entrance to the stoat’s burrow is now so you can keep an eye on it.
It depends how much I enjoy sitting on a stony beach in freezing cold weather.
I understand perfectly!
how fortunate to capture the weasel.. did you like the Haddock? I haven’t seen a black-headed Gull here, the one you photographed is very pretty.
Haddock is my favourite fish.
When your post arrived in my email I saw the picture of Guthrie and thought that is my favorite. But then I read the entire post and moss and Stoats and birds and landscapes, all magnificent!
You are most polite.
Ooh, the stoats are the bad guys. They took over Toad’s house!
They are very elegant though.
They are that. Perhaps they don’t derserve the bad rep.
How lucky to get some photos of the stoat (I am getting sleepy and almost typed “Stout” just then. I must be thirsty.).
You can’t beat a bit of luck if you haven’t got the patience to sit in a hide for three days.
You should have cought the stoat and used it to make your robes when you are made a Lord!
You need more than one unfortunately.
That was a great stoat, TP. Are they all white like that guy?
It’s the winter coat. In summer they are brown. I don’t know if they all go white in winter or whether it is a function of the weather or geographical location.
What a luck of the proficient! Only in absence of snow the stoat in his wintery white stood out so conspicuously. Stupendous shots in spite of the swiftness of the target.
Thank you. It was indeed lucky.
Well done for capturing the stoat. And I was most impressed by the river bed stones.
The supervising Brambling and the mossy tree were my favourites today. Glad you have finished the speech, I am sure that it will be very well received.
Wikipedia paints a gloomy picture of the stoat, calling it one of the world’s Top 100 most invasive species, responsible for declines in native bird populations. I wish you luck.
And good luck on your talk. Just remember you are the smartest person in the room on the topic at hand and everyone else is there to learn. If that doesn’t work, just imagine the audience in their undergarments. That should ease the tension.
We certainly aren’t over run with stoats here at the moment. That was the first winter coated one that I have ever seen.
I think imagining the audience that I am going to get in their underwear would make me so shocked and horrified that I would be speechless. As it happens there are almost certainly going to be people in the hall who know more about Robert Burns than I do. However, I am not a shrinking violet and actually enjoy public speaking a great deal so it is the content not the delivery that causes me concern. Thanks for you kind thoughts though.
Beautiful shot of the river bed – if you hadn’t identified it as such, I’d have thought it was just stones. The Esk must be very clean.
It is a clean river and the cold weather seems to make it even clearer than usual.