Smoke on the water

We returned to the mere for the first time in a few months. With the cafe closed for the winter granddad has lost interest in taking Alice here.

On previous visits we’ve been past the field on the way in and watched the sheep, but it seems they’ve been relocated to further round the mere. The field was however full of one of my favourite collective nouns; a murder of crows.

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Several crows and magpies were scavenging over the fields along with a few pied wagtails pretending to be part of the crow family.

Alice seemed happy to be returning to the mere.

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Having just finished crow country I’m still finding myself keeping track of crows on our walks.

A group elegantly silhouetted in the trees on the approach to the mere.

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The mere itself had a fine layer of mist layered around the edges giving it something of an Arthurian Avalon feel with the Lady of the Lake ready to leap out and startle the bird watching group.

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The bird watchers had come fully kitted with large telescopes. As far as I could tell they were watching the same ducks and swans that were swimming up to the shore, but maybe they could see something more exciting than my little binoculars. I suppose if you’ve brought big kit you’ve got to use it.

The gulls and ducks were swarming round the other side as several people fed them.

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We left the mere to go back home by the railway track. Alice decided nothing of any more interest was going to happen and went to sleep.

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The track is looking pretty lifeless currently. Just a few gulls returning to sea.

A pretty grim day at the seafront with the sky and sea merging seamlessly into an endless wall of grey. The boundaries between sea and sky had disappeared.

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I made a start on Richard Fortey-the wood from the trees. After leaving the Natural History Museum he bought a section of woodland. In this book he chronicles the wood in the style of a museum of curiosities. Should be interesting.

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