November 30th 2013

 

A pure natural history end to the day today. Popped down to the Somerset Levels as with the weather being superb I had a feeling it might be a good starling murmuration day. So by 3pm Julie and I were togged up and walking into the Shapwick NNR. Already the sun was rapidly setting in the west as we walked down the old railway line. Many people had already set up vantage points along the track but I had a plan. Hang a right and along a footpath there's a viewing screen overlooking a vast reedbed. A good move. From the viewing screen we had an uninterrupted view not only of starlings flying towards the reserve, but gently displaying in front of Glastonbury Tor. No absolutely stunning mass display, more medium size groups coming on fast and in a wavy line, some minor displaying but then straight into the reeds. But that's what wildlife watching is all about, one never knows what will happen.

 

 

Julie was happy, as her silhouette shows........... and when the sun rises tomorrow it will be December.

 

November 29th 2013

 

 

A big day today as Shared Planet hosted an in front of audience recording session at Bristol University. Doors closed at 6pm and we were off with Monty Don in the chair. Before then a chance to take some images of a slightly different nature (as per the image above). 850 tickets booked by last weekend and by the time the show kicked off we had a full house. All went well and by 8pm 2 programmes recorded. A good evening.

November 28th 2013

Working from home again today editing the 2 Shared Planet programmes which were recorded yesterday. As part of my regime when editing (which involves quite intense concentration) I make sure I gaze out of the window now and again to rest the eyes and refocus. I can see the Black Mountains from the office window and an uninterrupted view over farmland towards Sand Point a National Trust piece of countryside about 2 miles as the crow flies. Today however my attention was taken much closer to home by a song thrush feeding on yellow pyracantha berries. In the time it took me to grab my camera however, the thrush had disappeared.  I returned to the editing. About half an hour later I noticed a robin in the same spot. What intrigued me with the robin was it kept flying to and from the seed feeder. Being a robin, they're not really designed for seed feeders so after half a dozen failed flights, rest was needed on the fence. And I had my opportunity for the photograph as a record of a few minutes diversion from the task at hand...... ecotourism and the natural world, or as we discussed our 'back yard' offers as good a wildlife encounter as anywhere in the world.

November 27th 2013

Not a great sleep last night meant that at 4.30am I was wide awake. As was Mr Robin. At that point in the long dark nights of this time the year, the street lights in the lane behind my house were not lit. North Somerset Council switch off all but essential lighting between midnight and 5am and I love the fact the entire area is plunged into darkness. I just wish they could be switched off permanently.  I digress. At 4.30 am the resident robin was having it large with his vocal chords and singing for England. It was a perfect natural alarm call, and even now writing this at 6am, I can hear his fluty call emanating through the window casement. At 5am the streetlights came back on, first a deep red glow spreading further and further across the countryside until the ghastly orange glow seen above floods the neighbourhood. The increased light levels though kick started a mini-dawn chorus, a couple of wrens first, then a blackbird and when I was taking this photo a dunnock and a crow somewhere over the fields. Some say winter is a time to hide indoors as nature does, it doesn't really, it's just too preoccupied in surviving cold and the too short days. Nature is about 3 things, birth (death), sex, and finding food. Nothing else really. It's a harsh world. Speaking of which, time for breakfast.

November 26th 2013

 

 

It was a cold start to a rather hectic day today, minus 3 when I left home, dropping to minus 4 on the North Somerset Moors. I was in a bit of a rush as normally I leave before 7am but today (unrelated to previous evening wine) I left at 20 past. For some reason though the traffic was a lot lighter than normal and I still made it to work for 8am. Shame though as the sunrise over frost tinged fields full of cattle and sheep was a landscape painting waiting the be photographed. If I had put my SD card back in the camera and not left it in the computer slot. Ahh well the views out of the windscreen made me feel uplifted and full of the joys of spring. Sadly when I got to work it became a car crash of disasters but eventually by 6pm calm was restored, but it means there's masses of catching up to do. If you want a 9-5 job or a settled normal life then don't work in the media. Sometimes it's like juggling jelly on a uni-cycle while spinning plates in a Greek taverna. You need nerves of steel. And if anyone mentions badgers to me one more time, I'm off to reload my blunderbuss.

 

 

November 25th 2013

When I took this photograph while walking home I didn't like it. Not having a camera with me I used my Blackberry which has an okay camera when the light is good, but an absolutely rubbish camera when light levels are less than perfect. Also I think there must have been some dirt on the lens too as the startling effect of these newly erected Christmas lights in Clifton is amazing (better than in reality if truth were told). And that was the reason for the photo and today's blog. Today is the 25th of November and it seems that this weekend just gone is the put up the Christmas decorations weekend. The villages I drive through now have their lights lit and Christmas trees in situ and as I drove home I must have passed a dozen houses with outdoor lights blazing away, which were not blazing away on Friday. But then, it is December on Sunday. I do like Christmas.

November 24th 2013

Nice long walk today, which we guessed at about 8 miles or so, 2 and a half hours constant brisk walking anyway through the quiet lanes of this remote part of Wiltshire. Todays route took us from East Grafton where Julie lives, past Wilton Windmill, through a few single track lanes to Great Bedwyn and after a coffee in the Cross Keys there walked back via Crofton (home of the beam engine) and back to East Grafton via the wonderfully named Dark Lane. But this sign intrigued me. I've passed it for years and only today did we notice the typographical error as we passed the sign. Who was Gt Bedwin I wonder?

November 23rd 2013

 

A couple of images from over 150 I took today. The weather over the last couple of days has been superb and driving over to Wiltshire on Friday evening the sunset was spectacular. This morning then I resolved to get out of the house before dawn and see if I could get some picturesque images. I did. The one above is from the Wilton Road in East Grafton where I spend my weekends. Later in the day we went to Avebury to do the same in reverse, some images of the sunset. Below is Julie on the Avebury ramparts as the sun went down. I could have posted many more images but this blog diary is about remembering with less. I do however very much like silhouette imagery.

November 22nd 2013

 

It's a funny old world. And the funnier it becomes the more I like it. Laura Rawlings is a colleague from BBC Somerset and by chance on Twitter on Monday we had a brief chat about her forthcoming interview with Ray Davies of the Kinks, who was in town, as they say. Ray is a great proponent of the weird and bizarre and observes the unusual in his writing. I was never a huge fan of the Kinks but they were pretty good and I think much overlooked with their complex passages. One track they did record however which is rarer than hens teeth is Berkeley Mews.

 

Here is a link to the song itself on you-tube : http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=sg84eWNMNUs

 

I mentioned this track to Laura before she met Ray and how it blew me away when I first heard it as a teenager. I actually heard it at a friend called Christopher Dodds house as we rifled through his older sisters 45 records one sunny summers day in the 1970's. I can still remember placing it on the record player turntable and those first chords just mesmerised me, I was hooked and by the end with its big rift, knew that was a song of genius.

 

I then forgot about my conversation with Laura until I looked at Twitter late last night when Laura posted a message saying listen....Berkeley Mews has a connection with Somerset. So I did, and at 44 minutes into her interview Laura reads out my 'blown away' by this track to Ray Davies himself. It turns out Berkeley Mews was written as a tribute to Ray's good friend Ned Sherrin (who hosted some superb arts programmes in his time and whom I loved hosting Loose Ends until his death). Because of my conversation with Laura I discovered Ned came from Somerset, a farmers son from Low Ham and there closed the bizarre circle of life. As a teenager in County Durham I heard a song which has stayed with me through all these years and so as I approach 50, that memory triggered a conversation with the composer of the song and a 4 minute long piece of the programme. The circle was squared. I listened in Somerset to a connection to my past, my own connection with farming, my life in Somerset and a song which took me right back to that sunny summers day when I first hear that opening chord, which never forgotten then emanated across the BBC Somerset airwaves.

 

Now that's rock and roll!!  

November 21st 2013

The board above is our planning board in the office. What's coming up on Shared Planet and when. Most importantly though is the bottom item - 34 days to Christmas today. And even more important than that, today is 1 month from the Shortest Day on December 21st, which actually this year is a sensible time to celebrate, 17.11 hours GMT. Much as I love the dark winter nights and being indoors, candles on and excluding myself from the ever harshening elements, I long for the days to begin lengthening and therefore the Winter Solstice is the most important day in my life. From then on we have 6 months of increasing daylength and I feel my energy levels increasing. I don't mind the temperature being cold, as long as it is getting lighter. Before then though we have to suffer the "Dark Days Before Christmas". I used to think this was a fantasy of my mother, someone of Scandinavian origin who has a melancholy at times. But no it is true. Today in Bristol where I'm writing this sunrise is 07.38hrs and sunset 16.14 hrs. Next Thursday 07.49 hrs and 16.08 hrs over 15 minutes less sunlight (although twilight is longer) and by the Winter Solstice it will be 08.13hrs and 16.03 hrs a half hour less in the morning and 10 minutes less in the evening, the best part of 45 minutes.

The odd thing about the Solstice which I'll come back to on the 21st of December is that from early December the sunset time hovers around 16.05 +/- 3 minutes for the entire month, yet after the Solstice the time of the sunrise becomes slightly later by another 3 minutes to reach a lateness of 08.16am on December 28th which is maintained until January 4th when the sunrise slowly starts to get earlier at 08.15. Sunset however on the 4th January is 4.15pm, 10 minutes later. This is why after Christmas the nights seem a little lighter for just a fraction longer than of late, but the mornings still dark. It takes until the 11th of January for the daylength to equal that of December 1st, 8 hours and 12 minutes. The dark days before Christmas indeed.  

November 20th 2013

 

 

The Clifton Suspension Bridge in Bristol is one of the top tourist hotspots in Britain, and somewhere I cross twice a day as I commute into work. It once provided the divide between Bristol and Somerset on the west side of the Gorge. That side is now North Somerset, a small sub-county created after the disbandment of Avon. Personally I'd like to see Somerset recreated with its former boundaries but this will never happen as a bureaucratic enterprise in Weston super Mare ensures that a duplication of Local Authority services and systems with Taunton prevails.

 

But ignoring that, tonight then as I headed west the sky had cleared after a bit of a stormy day and the iconic bridge was perfectly silhouetted against the royal blue sky. This photo was taken as I pulled up to the barriers (apologies to the car behind me if I held you up for 30 seconds). It has obviously been manipulated as I liked the monochrome effect pushing it through an image manipulating  process. After 20 years of crossing it, I have never tired of driving over the Clifton Suspension Bridge.

November 19th 2013

One thing which will stand out for me about the autumn of 2013 will be the wonderful autumnal colours in the countryside, which have lasted far longer than usual because of our mild weather thus far. Writing this as we head into the deep winter, the landscape in my part of the South West remains absolutely stunning. Last night as I walked back to the car a strong wind had picked up along with some light rain. That combination was enough to blow the less secure autumn leaves off into the road, as a result I walked through the streets of Clifton under a confetti of bronzed leaves raining down on me. I tried a few photographs but the light wasn't good enough and really it needed a video to fully appreciate the beauty in those abscission layer dropped leaves.

Moments like that are magical. As Robert Browning said "Autumn wins you best by its mute appeal to sympathy for its decay" And this morning as I awoke in the darkness before dawn I feared that the weather as it turns much colder this week would provide the death-knell of the autumnal colours I have loved for many weeks. It was not to be, my fears of a grey and windswept landscape were put to bed. If anything the countryside was even more brilliant in the sunshine of this winter's day. It looked more stunning; a carpet of gold sheathed the streets as I walked, the blues of skies and sunlight shimmering the golden leaves remaining on many a tree.

To remind myself of this glorious day then a photograph of the Ginkgo tree (Ginkgo bilbao) in the BBC carpark. Here it stands each autumnal, a fossilised relic of a long forgotten age, a relic too of the Victorian garden which once covered this spot before a carpark covered it. Here shedding its glorious autumnal colours into my life its leaves fall onto the tarmac where they will remain before being tidied away. When this tree evolved, dinosaurs ruled the world, a time before humans were even thought about. A sobering thought as we contemplate the sympathy of decay. 

November 18th 2013

A busy day at the coal face. In the morning I was involved with a video news piece for Shared Planet. At the end of November we will be running 2 special programmes in front of an audience at Bristol University. Kelvin Boot our news correspondent will be away of an ecotourism trip to the Galapagos Island and so we are recording his 2 pieces on tape. This will be played to the audience before the panel discuss the 2 topics 1) Are there too many people in the World? and 2) do we care too much about wildlife? A sneaky behind the scenes look therefore at the working of the video age.

November 17th 2013

 

 

Did a bit of fencing today. Actually not real fencing but taking down some old and rotten trellis and putting up a picket fence between my house and the neighbour, Roger. I'm ashamed to say 3 years ago I said I'd repair this fence and after the last lot of wind it became apparent that the trellis fence would not last much longer. Up with the lark the old fence was down by 8am - as with a well known Fairy Tale, I huffed and I puffed and it all fell down. And then to the task in hand. I used to do a lot of fencing in the past and I've always enjoyed it. Garden fencing is easy compared to a high tensile wire fence. I remember once we had a 300 yard fence to erect and needed to get the top strand drum tight. Well fixed to the corner straining post, I tied the other end onto the fore end loader and reversed the tractor to pull the wire tight, so tight it could sing. The idea then is once its tight, 2 staples are hammered into the other straining most and the rest of the fence posts can be attached at leisure.

 

Except on that day somewhere along that length there was a fault and the wire snapped with the crack of a rifle shot, ricocheting like a coiled python towards me and across the cab of the tractor. Made one enormous bang as it hit the cab, but thankfully no one was killed (a real risk if anyone is in the way when that happens)  - and a sobering reminder why safety cabs were fitted to tractors.  Small fry today but I do love fencing, something therapeutic putting up something new and standing back in the dusk of the day with a satisfaction that I have put this up. Maybe I should do more fencing as a hobby come small business. Could be fun.

 

And unrelated but summer has finally gone. With the risk of heavy frosts this week, I've finally brought in the outdoor geraniums.

November 16th 2013

After a few hours in the garden tidying up before the winter sets in, as it got dark it seemed to feel a bit warmer here in Somerset. Decision made then to have a cup of tea and some coffee and walnut cake before we went in for the evening. Just 5pm and it was dark, hard to think 3 months ago we'd have been sitting outside in bright warm sunshine maybe at this very same time. The winter though has its advantages, the placing of a candle on the garden table lit our little world enough to take a rather shaky photograph, a record then of a perfect way to end a very relaxing day spent walking around Cheddar reservoir and gardening. How a Saturday should be.

November 15th 2013

 

Today I have been recording a location based interview on the topic of noise in the environment for the Radio 4 series Shared Planet. The natural world is not a quiet place but the editorial direction of today's work has been with increasing anthropogenic noise in the environment, is it having a serious effect on wildlife populations? These two images define my day. The top image was taken overlooking the North Somerset Levels. Dawn on a fine November day. The image however fails to capture that the M5 motorway is a mile in front of me and the resulting roar of traffic drowned out most if not all of the birdsong. At one point some geese flew over and I struggled to hear their calls. I felt removed from my surroundings as my hearing adjusted to the wall of sound. The image below shows the tools of my trade, a NAGRA recording device and microphone. They've had a lot of use today.

November 14th 2013

A phonecall I made outside in bright winter sunshine prompted today's posting. At this time of year the contrast between light and dark can be remarkable. The scientific reasons for this are too complicated for today's posting to explore, but in simple terms it is partly as the angle of the suns rays are dropping closer to the horizon and so the intensity is enhanced and partly as the air has less ultraviolet light than in the summer there is less diffusion. All I know is that as I talked the silhouette I made on this wall intrigued me. The shadowy object in the middle is actually an outdoor lamp. However as I chatted on the phone it reminded me of an old fashioned microphone, which I was speaking into. The image in front of me reflected my own conversation on a mobile phone. Happen-chance is a wonderful thing. Add to that standing against that wall I could feel some heat in the sunlight it made for a perfect lunchtime interlude. 

November 13th 2013

I wrote this post on November the 12th as I will have a busy day on November the 13th so for the first time I'm experiementing with the Schedule Publisher, what can possibly go wrong...............

At lunchtime today I needed some fresh air having been staring at a computer screen for nearly 5 hours. Its not healthy to be indoors on a glorious November day, so instead of my usual working through lunch I went for a walk to top up my vitamin D. I had no plan of where I'd walk to but a chance turn down a side road made me realise I was in the Redland area of Bristol behind the BBC, an area I knew well around 15 years ago. Between 1994 and 1998 I had a girlfriend here, Helen, who lived in a flat in Redland, just 10 minutes walk away from work. At that time I lived on the Somerset Levels so would stay over quite a bit to reduce the commute. She lived in flat in Alexandra Park (picture taken today of the house above) and I remember it being a quiet residential area of Victorian villa's and so, on this wonderfully warm afternoon, I retraced the walk we did most mornings into work.

Nothing has changed, yet everything is different. It is strange retracing a past life, a past landscape so well known for a few years. But there was one day, now forgotten in time when I would have walked my last walk into work that way. My footsteps would no longer echo along Chandos Road (below). All the old landmarks are still there and recognisable, the large trees, the houses looking the same, it even had that same feel of a quiet residential area. And yet, it was entirely different. The shops I knew have changed, the area seems more upmarket with deli's and craft shops. The streets are still full of parked cars, but none of the models I'd have seen 15 years ago. I stood outside a house I knew so well and yet, my life has changed so much it seemed like somewhere I'd never been, yet walking back to work it felt like I'd never left. I'm not a proponent of living too much in the past, we change the world changes, but in the echo of my footsteps along Chandos Road today, the shadow of my past life still remains. I enjoyed going back.

November 12th 2013

It was E.M Forster who said "What is the good of your stars and trees, your sunrise and the wind, if they do not enter into our daily lives" Exactly. Today the sunrise entered my daily life in a rather big way. Over the North Somerset Levels the sky was a kaleidoscope of colours, blues, oranges, whites, reds and as in the photograph above dark counter contrast silhouettes of the land in shadow. A day I wish I had my camera with me as I drove into work, but having left it at home, made do with the mobile. Beyond here the mists rolled in between the regimented lines of hedgerow forcing dark sentinel trees to pop their upper branches into the sunlight as if to get some air. I've mentioned sunrises before in this blog and will continue to do so. Moments passed in the majesty of what the natural world can do for us, allows us to break the tedium of our rather silly consumer based, work based, living like sheep in commuter pens existence we call Modern Civilisation. If you do one thing today, stop and look at the sky. That view is free, it has never changed for Millennia and it is nothing short of a miracle that this tiny spec of a Planet in the Universe brings such joy if we can only see it.

I'll end with a quote from an e-mail my partner Julie sent to me just now "Funny isn't it: another day has dawned which is a miracle in itself, giving a new 24 hours of possibilities, and all we do is the same thing we did yesterday"  

Wise words indeed, echoed by a text from a friend Sheena who whilst sitting in gridlocked traffic was watching the beautiful day unfurl around her while listening to Tchaikovsky!

November 11th 2013

I’ve just returned from my 2 minutes silence on the 11^th of the 11^th of the 11^th something I have done all my life. My parents were staunch attendees of the Westoe Cenotaph in South Shields and I did not have an option to not attend with them. I can still remember how long 2 minutes felt in total silence as a child, an eternity trying to keep still and not make a sound, keeping my mind occupied by watching the leaves float down from the autumnal trees. In my early teens in the 1970’s attendance at the Cenotaph was down to a handful of people. Back then no one really worried about remembering the dead, it was our grandfathers history, ancient history. I still went with my parents despite my protestations, the protestations of youth, when young we know what we believe, not what our parents tell us. The Falklands War I feel began a resurgence in Remembrance Day when young men failed to return, or returned maimed. Certainly I remember going down to the Tyne as the warships returned and the crowds shouting ‘Three Cheers’ as the sailors passed up the river. For a while in the 1980’s I assisted the Boys Brigade Band in East Boldon who led the Remembrance Day procession along Front Street. In recent years I have remembered on my own, somewhere quiet and outdoors if possible. Today I stood under a tree in the little garden we have here in work and stopped for those now very short 2 minutes. Age speeds up the passage of real time, but I still remember them, and will continue to do so, as I too now enter my autumn years and watch the autumnal leaves float down around me in silent thought.  

November 10th 2013

The image above encapsulates the three hours I spent walking around Cheddar Reservoir in Somerset. After days of wet, dark and miserable weather it was wonderful to wake up this morning and see the sunshine. So after some considerable deliberation as to where to go, eventually I plumped for Cheddar. The light was spectacular so I wandered around trying to take some photos that described the location but in a non obvious way. Quite hard to do in fact as it is a big reservoir and surrounded by fields and the Mendip Hills, but even if I didn't quite achieve some of my desired shots, in the main I was quite pleased with the results. November sunshine is always a winner.

More of the photos can be found on my Facebook Page  - here!

November 9th 2013

 

I've taken better photographs but these two represent a very soggy day on the Somerset Levels at my favourite part of it. Until lunchtime the heavy driving rain made me think I'd not get out today. Eventually though a spell of drier weather came along in the afternoon so I drove over to Catcott and then Canada Farm, both part of the Shapwick Heath Nature Reserve complex (I tend to avoid the hot spots down there, too many people don't help birdwatching). The light was dire for good photographs and the rain returned before I left but it is good to see the rising numbers numbers of wigeon and lapwing especially at Catcott. At Canada Farm the lake was pretty much empty of any birdlife, but I love sitting quietly in the hide in the forlorn hope of seeing an otter. And there is something soporific in sitting in a hide in heavy rain.  As it turned darker good numbers of starling flew over, in a month or so it'll be peak starling numbers coming to roost. A sight to behold.

November 8th 2013

 

 

Sometimes my faith in the modern world is restored. Take the above image. Fountain Forestry just outside Bristol are a well known fencing and wood products supplier. I need to replace a short fence at home so ordered some picket fence panels and a picket gate. My order went in first thing this morning on-line and a receipt told me that it would be 5-10 days to deliver. Fair enough I'm in no hurry. At noon I had a call, we can deliver this afternoon if that's okay. It was although I was at work but rearranged my afternoon to work from home. Got home at 2pm and the panels, gate, postcrete and nails were already propped up outside where I asked them to leave them. I know they're only 10 miles away or so, but that's what I call service. Sadly however this may mean I need to get out the cobweb covered toolbox and renew the fence this weekend, or maybe I should go birdwatching instead.... Decisions, Decisions!!

November 7th 2013

The River Tyne - September 2011

An audio thought today which illustrates loops of connectivity. I'm working at home writing scripts for Radio 4's Shared Planet and one of the scripts I'm working on is for 'Noise in the Environment'. On Monday I had an inspiring telephone conversation with Bernie Krause one of the Worlds leading natural sound recordists, and he mentioned in passing Chris Watson, the Newcastle based master of sound I know. By chance this morning I then had a brief e-mail chat with Chris on another matter, and his chat reminded me I had not listened to his radio programme 'The Station' - which is in essence an 24 hour audio diary of the Newcastle Central Train Station, recorded over the span of a few months. And so it came to pass, as I wrote my draft noise script it was enhanced by the sounds and emotions of what I think is possibly the most architecturally evocative stations in Britain. The fluty burble of a solo blackbird piping into the station auditorium has to be one of the best urban recordings I've ever heard. I only wish the massed starling roosts still happened in Newcastle; I can still hear that unbelievable noise overhead as I did my Christmas shopping as a child.

The Station : Recorded by Chris Watson http://www.bbc.co.uk/programmes/b03c45hq

November 6th 2013

It was dark. It was wet. The wind blew outside. So what better today than a 3 rasher bacon sandwich to take to work. I don't often make bacon sandwiches to take with me and that's a shame as one of my favourite foods is a cold bacon sandwich, with lots of tomato sauce. There's nothing better after spending some time outdoors to unfurl a foil package and sit by a hedge eating one of life's greatest pleasures, the cold bacon sandwich. It also transports me right back to my childhood when my father who ran his own business used to make time 'as a family' to head off to the beach before work. The night before mum would make bacon sandwiches, and before we departed for an hour of fresh air she'd put muesli into a leak proof Tupperware container. We'd head to the beach and for an hour or so dad would swim in the sea and we'd sit there having a cold breakfast in the fresh air only being at the coast can provide (although we always had hot tea provided by a portable Camping Gaz stove). It's memories like that which in my 50th year I'm remembering. My parents worked hard to make sure as an only child, I wasn't left alone or miss out on fun days through a lack of siblings. I have to say the bacon sandwich today was delicious.

November 5th 2013

What a difference a day makes. The image at the bottom of this posting was taken at 7am yesterday and as I mentioned in that blog, that sunrise was meant to be yesterdays posting image. I was thinking about that wonderful sunrise this morning as I drove in. The other two images were taken at 7.30am today, and the weather could not be more different. The top one is the torrential rain as I sat in my car having just parked up preparing myself to walk the 15 minutes into work, the one below is the 'gargoyle' on Clifton Cathedral, which always provides a visual record of heavy rain. To be honest I love heavy rain, always have done always will do. Something of the frailty of the human body and the power nature has to offer us, power we're incapable of taming, and I like that. That said I'd rather be out walking in the torrential rain in some windswept piece of countryside than driving the 20 miles into work in the semi-darkness. British weather is unpredictable and that's why it's always a joy to me to experience whatever the weather.

Yesterdays sunrise at 7am

 

November 4th 2013

Sometimes its an image that grabs my attention for this blog diary. Driving into work this morning at 7am there was THE most dramatic sky over the North Somerset landscape. I always carry a camera in the car now (as a result of this blog) so I shot off a couple of photographs. That was to be my thought for the day. But, I didn't have time to upload them onto this blog. At about 11am I sat at my desk listening to some interviews from Palau on the Nepoleon wrasse, a huge coral fish who's size and status make it prized for both food and tourism and therefore of conservation concern. Enveloped by headphones I was busily writing notes when I suddenly looked at my notepad and thought - wow, that is a striking image. Sunlight flooding in through the office window was highlighting only my words, only the parts of the recording that were important and I had written down, the rest of the desk was in shadow. I quickly took a photograph with my phone before the intensity of the light faded. Images like that stay with me for a long time.

November 3rd 2013

Very late season female red admiral on the kitchen window this morning (with photo of my blackberry to add to the composition). Red admirals can technically be seen at any time of the year as they're predominantly migratory in the UK, but by mid October usually most have died out, and only as few overwinter in sheltered warm sport. This one though was in pristine condition which therefore makes me wonder if it is a recently emerged butterfly. It could of course have been carried along by the recent south westerly gales we've experienced in the south over recent days, but given her wonderful condition I'd be surprised that she wasn't more worn. It wasn't there for long as a squally shower came along not long after this photograph was taken and the butterfly went. Sad to think it will most likely perish before too long and so what I saw was a fleeting glimpse of a wildlife encounter. And that's what made it special.

November 2nd 2013

This evening Julie and I drove to Pewsey near Marlborough to put 6 paintings of her animal portraits into the Pewsey Community Crafts and Tea Room. This is a locally run arts and crafts community venture which also does a cup of tea. The place was closed when we arrived but the 'arts coordinator' met us and we spent the next half an hour putting these 6 quite sizable portraits on the wall. The place does not open until Monday so we'll await and see what reaction Julie gets then. A very exciting time for Julie as this is the first time her work has been seen in public. I remember the first time I put some art into the public arena, a mixture of sheer excitement and sheer fear in case people were critical of my work. We don't really expect to sell any of these pre completed works, but the plan is to get Julie's name known as someone who can do commissioned animal portraits.

Anyway they'll be there for the whole of November as 'Artist of the Month', so if you are in that part of Wiltshire do pop in.

November 1st 2013

An auspicious day today. On November 1st 1993 I began my BBC career. And for all of those 20 years I have worked at the Natural History Unit in Bristol in a variety of jobs. I can remember how I got here. In August 1993 I had just graduated from Newcastle University as a Countryside Manager as a 'mature' graduate of 29. Seems very young looking back. I popped down to the Central Library in South Shields where I had worked for a few years prior to University to have lunch with my ex-colleagues. While waiting for them to arrive I flicked through the New Scientist magazine in the reference library from the 21 August 1993, and there I saw an advert (which I still have) for a Wildbase Assistant. I had the right background so as I didn't have a job, even though it wasn't something I wanted to do, having gone to University to train up to managing agricultural estates, I applied for the experience of job interviews, got an interview (my one and only formal interview in my entire life), got the job £11,400 per annum, and moved the 300+ miles to Bristol (I had to look it up on a map as I had no idea where Bristol was). The rest they say is history.

I remember moving down here. I had an Austin Metro and set off with all my worldly goods in it. I didn't know anyone closer than 80 miles away (my partners parents then lived north of Evesham) and as it was November it was dark by 5pm. Consequently my first week was bizarre, I did feel quite lonely and isolated for the first week, but on the Friday I was asked to dinner by a colleague on the Saturday night. That broke the feeling of being homesick. I had also moved into a lovely B&B in Portbury and became good friends with the family eventually renting an annex of their 15th Century house. And so as with many things in life, plans change and even though this was only meant to be a stop gap job until an Estate Manager role came along, I have never left. Its funny how something which at the time seemed very temporary, can quickly become long term. I've had some wonderful experiences and met some wonderful people, and yes, I do miss never managing an agricultural estate. It was not to be.