Today’s guest picture is a fine oak, captured by my brother Andrew on a walk near his home.
The light was poor all day today, but it was quite an interesting day so I took a lot of very dim pictures. To save the patient reader from overkill, I have mostly put them in galleries and those interested can click on a frame to get the fuller picture. (Real life was much gloomier than the photo editor pretends that it was.)
If red sky in the morning is a shepherd’s warning, we were well warned today.
The snow did not put off the chaffinches . . .
. . . and I was very pleased to see a greenfinch at the feeder, along with goldfinches and siskins.
The snow eased off and left a rather slushy situation for Mrs Tootlepedal and I to negotiate when we went round to different shops. I went shopping in the morning, and then went for a walk up the hill in the afternoon while Mrs Tootlepedal did her shopping.
I headed up to the golf course where I took a set of pictures as I walked to the top of the course.
I like those two trees,
Once I got on to the open hill and started to walk along the hilly path to the road to the White Yett, I was so fully occupied in not falling over, that I forgot to take any pictures. It was sleeting as well so perhaps my camera was better off in my pocket. I should have had my Yaktrax on, but my two walking poles kept me upright on more than one occasion, and I arrived at the road in fairly good order.
Looking at the road . . .
. . . it seemed too tempting not to walk up to the White Yett and look over into the Tarras Valley Nature Reserve. I was hoping that those black clouds ahead were the sleet shower that had just passed me and not one which was going to get me further up the road.
The going on the road was surprisingly good and the sleet stayed away so I enjoyed my walk as far as the MacDiarmid memorial.
. . . but my plan to take some lovely snowy pictures of the moor was foiled by a sleet shower which turned up just as I got to the top of the hill. It reduced the visibility to about 100 yards. I turned to walk back down the road, sightly worried that going down hill might be a bit more tricky than going uphill.
This proved to be the case, and I really regretted not having my Yaktrax. I had to use small steps and keep my eyes on where I was going, and even so, my poles rescued me more than once from an undignified visit to the slush.
The sleet followed me down the hill, but I was lucky that it was coming from the side, and my good winter coat and hood kept me warm and dry. When the sleet stopped, there was even a hint of sunshine to the west, but it was only a hint.
When I got to the Kilngreen, I found that an old friend was taking a stand . . .
. . . rising above a gaggle of mallards.
Because the snow was so slushy, I hadn’t realised how slippery my walk would turn out to be, and I was very pleased to get home after four and a half miles without falling over. I resolved to make sure to take my Yaktrax with me if another snowy walk appears on the menu, whatever the state of the snow.
However, a cup of tea and the final slice of Mrs Tootlepedal’s gingerbread when I got in soon restored my equilibrium. The effort of concentration on the walk had made it quite tiring though, and I was very happy to spend the rest of the day sitting quietly until the time came to make a sausage stew for the evening meal.
The flying bird of the day is another chaffinch. The greenfinch flew off when I wasn’t looking.