Today’s guest picture comes from my Lake Michigan correspondent Laura. The autumn has produced a very fine crop of fungus in her back yard.
The weather is getting steadily worse here, and we had more rain overnight, followed by a very grey day when we woke up. Although the forecast had said that it should rain all day, in the event it only rained from time to time. I found a gap in the weather to go up to the newspaper office to photograph an article from the paper of 1890 to send to a chap who was researching his family history. The newspaper kindly makes its back numbers available to researchers.
The river was well up when I crossed the suspension bridge, and the new footing of the pier was deep under the flow compared with how it was yesterday.
I was observed on my walk.
I was rather surprised to see a good turn out of birds at the feeder when I got back home . . .
. . . but this turned out to be the only time in the day when the feeder was busy. The wind was extremely strong, and perhaps it costs the birds more in energy to get to and from the feeder than they can pick up from the seeds while they are there.
I emailed the photo of the article to the family historian, and reflected on what a boon digitisation has been to family researchers. It makes the work that we do in compiling the newspaper index seem very worthwhile.
After lunch, I decided to ignore the weather and go for a walk. I took three token flower pictures before I left.
Although it had been raining on and off during the morning, the river had gone down since I had crossed it earlier on. A fallen tree carried by the current had been stranded by the shore, and a goosander and mallards found calm water in which to paddle about.
Once again, the hills were shrouded in low cloud . . .
. . . so I looked at trees rather than views. Ironically, the autumn colour was looking pretty good but the autumn weather was not very kind to photographers . . .
. . . and in particular, it was not very kind to my camera, which went into a sulk and refused to work after being exposed to the rain for a short while.
I had to turn to my phone to take pictures on the rest of my walk, and while it has many merits, taking clear pictures of distant trees on a rainy day is not among them. It took a rather impressionist view of these ones.
I walked round Potholm for the second time this month as I thought that a low level walk with a good deal of shelter was a sensible decision for a windy, wet day.
It wasn’t really a day for sauntering along and looking about, but as this blog is a daily diary, I took a few gloomy pictures to record a gloomy day as I went along, spotting some fungus at the North Lodge. . .
. . .and waiting for moments when the rain had stopped for larger shots. I walked briskly past the wood where the tree had recently fallen down.
There was still quite a lot of water going down the Esk when I got to the Potholm Bridge.
The last time that I walked along the road from Potholm, I dropped my cap and had to go back to find it. With the wind even stronger today, I jammed my second best cap firmly on my head and then covered it up with my coat hood to stop it blowing away.
I looked up from time to time, and my phone went into impressionist mode again as I tried to take pictures of the trees on the other side of the valley. I added a neatly trimmed hedge which was more within its range.
It was a great pity that the light was so poor, because the larch trees are just beginning to change colour and the deciduous trees are looking most promising. A little bit of sunshine would have made this walk a delight.
My phone can be a terrible liar at times, and for some reason it made this last look at the trees before I got to the main road much brighter than it was in real life.
I was just congratulating myself on getting round the walk with dry feet when I came upon a huge puddle covering the whole road . . .
. . . and I had no option but to scurry through the water, which was inches deep, as fast as I could.
Just as I had finished wading through the water, a council van drew up at the far end of the puddle, and a man got out who was obviously going to clear the blocked drain.
It was admirable that the council was paying such attention to road users’ needs, but it was a great pity that he hadn’t come five minutes earlier.
All the same, my new gaiters and the waterproofing on my boots stood up to the puddle well, and I got home with comparatively dry feet, feeling grateful that I had got round a five mile walk in relative comfort on a nasty day.
Tea and toast restored me to full good humour. Mrs Tootlepedal had made excellent progress at her decorating task while I had been out. I like to think that I am quite skilful in not ‘getting under her feet’ while she is busy.
We had a cheerful sibling Zoom in the evening, and we rounded off the day by finishing the last of the tarte tatin with custard. I shall have to stop baking as the dreaded winter weight gain is already far too evident for comfort. It’s either that or mind numbing sessions on the bike to nowhere on wet and windy days.
The flying bird of the day is a greenfinch (I have included a shouting siskin in the background for the entertainment of my Somerset correspondent, Venetia.)