Roadblock!

Today has been a filthy wet cold day, one during which anyone sane should have stayed in all day and re-arranged their sock drawers or whatever it is people do when they are inside.

To be fair, I spent most of it inside too, tired after the working week, but I still went out for a couple of hours, stupidly not wearing a hat so I ended up with a cold, dripping head. And an Aldi cycling jersey I can use for winter running as well.

Walking along the far side of the river I wondered why there was a few people just standing by a large puddle in the path. It turned out that the town's swan family, presumably not liking the flooded fast flowing river, had moved onto dry land and where harassing folk with shopping bags, presumably associating these with bread carrying swan feeders.

Very gallantly, a chap ahead of me walked them across the obstruction, keeping himself between the swans and the walkers. Me, I carefully followed them, getting hissed at by a cygnet who thought my new top might have been a loaf of stale Hovis.

After this, I had a nice hour in the gaming cafe reading the nerdy magazines and drinking tea. Not too bad a day really.

Si

All text and images copyright CreamCrackeredNature 26.10.19

Naughty Swans and Irridescent Ducks

I'm still nursing my leg, my swollen, red, painful leg; my fibula-compromised leg, my IO-Band damaged leg, my old, glue factory ready leg.

Luckily I've stil been able to walk the last few days, if well dosed with Iburprofen, and it was on a walk along the River Devon in Sconce Park that I was able to make the acquaintance of a few birds.

The swans were, as ever, over tame and over privileged, expecting handfuls of food from every passing visitor and harassing those that were empty handed. The two mutes that found me offering only photo-opps rather than baked goods were full of hisses and grunts, wings raised in the threat gesture apparently known as "busking".

One of them was so annoyed, it started biting the metal rail of the platform I was snapping from, as if it was hoping to tear it down and drag me into the water.

Amidst all the cygnular aggression, various mallards cruised rather more peacefully along the river, although one of the friskier drakes was giving it a fair bit of quack and was trying to nip the tail of a passing duck.

The mallard drakes are probably at the peak of their condition at the moment; beautiful plumage, and their heads boiling with glittering irridescence in the sun. At last I had light to try and take some decent photographs, and I hope I succeeded in capturing at least a little of the birds in this glorious state.

And if I didn't, at least I wasn't killed by a swan.

Si