6th April
The visits to Warriston Cemetery are blurring into one and I forget which was what. On 5th April Mary and I had a very enjoyable walk round the Botanics. On the 6th I did the same but in reverse. Botanics first then remaining energies around Warriston. Quite a different set of results. It seemed like there were fewer birds in the Botanics but maybe I was moving faster and not looking so well with just one pair of eyes. I covered similar ground but perhaps there is a sense of expectation that you might tick all the boxes ticked the day before and then some. It was fun but not all the boxes got ticked and so a feeling of missing out pervaded the visit. Or maybe I just missed the Mary-banter. Or maybe the birds were off getting their covid vaccinations that day. Squirrels the following.
greenfinch
goldfinch
burgeoning!
I was telling this robin all my best jokes...
"turning my back on you mate"
The one boost I did get was this treecreeper shot. In among a load of bad and blurry shots was this comparative jewel; sat with face and claw just about visible and showing its great (if subtle) plumage including that elegant tail. Still room for improvement but much better than I thought I was getting! Also all the goldfinch shots. In Warriston the goldfinches inhabit the outer atmosphere of the tallest treetops and rarely deign to visit the earthbound lens. The ones on the 2 storey roof above were unusually gettable due to the new camera zoom which also made the heights of the shot below attainable too. I love their scarlet faces and yellow flashes on wings. Handsome birds.
This cracker is their wild pear tree from South West Asia, a Kazhak Pear Pyrus korshinskyi. I'm not telling you that because I am a tree expert, but because I read it on the sign beside the tree, which was quite something, not in stature, but in blossom. Just amazing! A few steps beyond it and my attention was stolen by a peacock butterfly which looked in a bit of a panic. I took an in-flight pic because it seemed like it wasn't on its way to stopping for a photo; and right enough it did a couple of manic circles then dived under the bottom of a low growing cotoneaster (or similar), racing back into hibernation. I wasn't sure I had seen right. Did it do a rolling dive under that shrub? I gently lifted the skirts of the plant but there was no sign of the peacock which had scarpered back down its burrow. Within seconds there was a light fall of snow or fluffy hail.
goney gone
I did another turn round the rock garden and checked the kingfisher-in-residence wasn't, then headed to the cemetery a couple of streets away. A crow, practising for a role in an Edgar Allan Poe poem sat atop a sign that speaks loudly of the four horsemen of my childhood. I lived in Craigleith and had a season ticket for the other 3.
the riverside robin
Near a grave with the words Archibald Buchanan Stirling (if memory serves) lives the riverside robin. I had seen Andrew and Unda post pics of a robin handfeeding and as soon as this chap appeared at my shoulder with a confidence and swagger lacking in woodland creatures outwith Disney films of the 1930s, I thought he'll be the one. He lives in the centre of the riverside section of cemetery, but not right next to the river. Sometimes he is there, sometimes he is not. Often with another similar sized robin who I imagine is offspring, which he feeds. The trick of operating the camera in movie mode in my right hand while holding the breaded left out within the robin's line of sight and capturing the moment if and when it transpires does not always go smoothly. However the robin is quite patient and doesn't scoff when I mess it up. He was also prepared to sit for photos and close-ups in less than splendid lighting. On this occasion he actually landed on my fingers and sat for a couple of seconds while a frisson of electricity ran from my fingertips into my soul.
stills from the video
I have no idea what these letters mean. I came across the M recently too and another. I think they may be area markers to guide visitors though they are more difficult to find than the areas they are in so how does that work? How does anything work though? Like ladybirds. Huddled together waiting for Winter to pass. Do they chat like prisoners in Colditz? How long is winter to a creature whose life is only just a fraction longer. Are they like bird medicine? Lost your dawn chorus? Take three ladybirds and have a lie down.
I think this is Glory-of-the-snow or similar,
a welcome splash of wintry colour
a welcome splash of wintry colour
another fab day!