I've not taken any wildlife photographs this week, so it'll be another wordy blog, I'm afraid.
A definite lack of effort on my part, as of late, my commute to work has had several birdy "regulars".
One part of the route passes a couple of football pitches, only separated from the road by a small banked verge and a line of trees. Stony Stratford Town FC play in the South Midlands League - Division 1 from these pitches, but during the week and during the rush hour, the away team consists of a solitary Buzzard. I see it most mornings, come rain or shine. Sometimes perched on the crossbar of the goal nearest the road, occasionally sat on the hand rail between the corner flag and the grandstand. That's the Buzzard, not me. Presumably it's watching for earthworms rather than being a talons scout.
I'd wondered what the chances were of being able to park the car and sneak up to the trees without scaring it off. Pretty slim, I reckon, so camera and photographer have remained vehicularised, the 40mph speed limit allowing time for a brief view and a mumbled greeting.
The other "regulars" are very definitely fair weather friends. About 4 miles from work, I pass a field on my right hand side, which gradually slopes up from the hedgerow at the roadside, thereby catching any early morning sun. It was ploughed and sown in the Autumn, so that now, in late Winter, there is a short green sward, ideal for highlighting any reasonably-sized creature sat on the ground. For several weeks, it has been possible to predict whether there would be a small covey of Red-legged Partridges here, by reference to the weather. Sunny, yes, cloudy, no. After many mild oaths of "Damn, it's sunny, I've forgotten the camera again!" I finally remembered this week. On the first bright morning that they didn't bother to show up. Grrrr!
Such are the joys of wildlife watching.
I'd hoped to make up for my Monday to Friday photographic failures over the course of the weekend, but as I write, the rain has not stopped. Persistent precipitation producing pessimistic ponderings.
The soaked ground will be no place for an earthworm, I fear. Who'd've thought that the early bird would be a Buzzard?