Wednesday, 20 May 2009
Tuesday, 19 May 2009
A Splash of Yellow
Sorry that all this blog isn't in date order but still ploughing through images from a recent trip to Northumberland. Margaret my wife likes nothing better than tripping out to the local villages and browsing round the shops. One such trip was to Morpeth, this is one of my favorites, as, I can drop her off and then dash of to the beach at Cresswell for a couple of hours. It was a murky day but it was brightened up with some close encounters with Sanderling and just as I was leaving a blob of yellow flew past me and landed in the middle of a field. This was my first sighting of a Yellow Wagtail
Saturday, 16 May 2009
A Tale of Two Days
Woolston Eyes is well known for being the best reserve in the UK for Black-necked Grebe, and this proved to be the case on a recent visit. Unfortunately however, it isn't the best place for photographers as the birds are too far distant for our lenses.
A day later I travelled to a less well known spot and was surprised to see a pair hunting for food right in front of me.
Mud ....Sweat.... and.....Tears
Mud…Sweat…&…Tears
Slipping & sliding through the mud on the ebbing tide was a sweaty business, finding a tree trunk of driftwood to half sit half kneel was a joy in order to obtain a low position. As dog walkers spooked the Dunlin & Ringed Plover, corralling them towards me for once, it was bliss to be surrounded by scores of birds totally ignoring my presents.
But it was to turn to tears when I arrived home and the Blessed Saint Margaret (my wife) ripped into me….”look at the state of those pants, you look like a tramp, I only washed them yesterday”. The woes of bird photography.
Tuesday, 5 May 2009
Alwinton Northumberland
Its now our 17th year at the cottage close to Alwinton. When I wake in the morning I instinctively know whether or not to rise by the shade of the light that creeps through a gap in the curtains. The signs were good and when I looked through the patio doors Barrow Scar was glowing bright red with the rising sun. No time to dress , it was straight out with the camera, there was a photograph at every turn and in no time at all I found myself down by the river. As I turned into the light two Canada Geese appeared out of the misty river Coquet and climbed the dewey bank. After half an hour I suddenly felt cold and wet as I had ventured out in my pajama's, dressing gown and slippers, had I been anywhere else in England men in white coats would have been escorting me back to the asylum.
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