sturm und drang - gone with the wind

 

27th Nov.

Sturm Arwen and drang snow. Not very much of either here. Especially when you see what Arwen did in the Borders, East coast and Dunbar. All those horizontal pines at Dunbar looking very like the Tunguska Event. Sad for the wildlife but not an absolute tragedy. In as much as native and variable tree planting seems to be the preferred current thinking, not just rows of conifers, and maybe we could replace them with something more thoughtful and eventually, better. 

I had never heard of "Arwen" before as a name. A quick google says it is from Lord of the Rings. I have zero interest in LotR. I have heard many things about it but just have zero interest in that sword-and-sandal wool-gathering. The film literally put me to sleep in 15minutes. I know you shouldn't write something off without giving it a proper chance but I'm just too old (what I mean is discerning but that would be too arrogant and belligerent to say out loud) for that sort of shit.

Same with ghost stories. I was really enjoying Stephen King's Duma Key. Which really drags out a rather nothingy tale of a construction guy who has an accident, nearly dies, then retires to a remote and beautiful location to become an artist. It is a 21hour audiobook. You think Gone with the Wind is long at 4hrs. This is 5 times that. Mr King does not stint himself. And if you are listening while doing some chore like watching paint dry, then hey, it passes the time. And as I say I was enjoying watching Mr King's paint dry. And the transformation of construction guy into artist on one of the remoter Florida Keys. Painting sunsets. I mean there was way too much wool-gathering, but that is fiction for you. The guy is an instant genius. Paints incredible paintings. From a backstory of being no more than a doodler who drew stuff for his kids as they grew up. 

I felt King was taking liberties as he should know you don't just become a great painter any more than you become an instant great pianist or writer. You can start with lots of ability or talent, but it is the practice that makes for a developing talent. But I was enjoying the scenery and deliberately slow pace which ran parallel with the recovery from a nearly fatal accident, of the main character. And his eventual meeting with other local characters on the island. It was all watching paint dry within a watching paint dry scenario and was a pleasant distraction and rather meta.

But then, maybe half or two thirds of the way through ghosts appear. Turns out they are the reason our hero has been suddenly turned into a gifted artist. I have lost all interest in the book. If there are ghosts I am out. Ghosts that open doors and can fight. Not interested. Might as well have written "and then Jesus turned up". Or the Loch Ness Monster. Childish blather. Clearly the only existence ghosts (or other fictional appendages) have, are within the minds of those without sufficient rigour. So when several people fight off a ghost, I am done. I am out. Bye bye Mr King we have nothing left to talk about, I had hoped this wasn't one of your fantasy genre. Look I can meet you halfway for instance about the boy who has a near fatal accident (always a good start) and then has the mysterious ability to see the truth / near distance future when he shakes hands or gets close to someone, (The Dead Zone possibly) but fucking ghosts do not autonomously exist. You think that if humans blew themselves off this planet there would be any white sheets walking about with eyeholes going woooo? Grow up.

If camera people can film snow leopards chasing goats down near vertical cliffs in the middle of nowhere you don't think they would have caught a yeti / a ghost / an interview with a vampire / Jesus by now? Face it Stephen King, (and all the lords of all the rings) all that guff is make believe. I know you are writing fiction but let's not stray into fantasy.

just the one tree down at Warriston
and it was removed in a couple of days

Other than that, great book. No, just kidding! but nice moments. Maybe I should get the paints out? Or live in the Florida Keys?

Another good book ruined by a physical appearance of a real ghost (and not just a stress induced psychosomatic ghost) was Dark Matter by Michelle Paver. It starts off very well about a desperate person getting on board an Arctic expedition in 1937 and travelling to this remote and fascinating place. Gradually everyone else has reason to depart the Arctic Camp, leaving him there alone. And the isolation begins to take its toll. So far so good. Then a ghost comes wandering into camp. Fuck! Ruined it. Because they don't exist. I am too old (as before) for this. You might as well have Scoobie Doo appear. And yet the Scoobie Doo creators always, ALWAYS revealed the perpetrator was not a real ghost, because as we know there are no such things and you might as well have Santa Claus or the tooth fairy appear and take the blame. Talking dogs are one thing but actual ghosts? You can only suspend belief to such a degree. And if God appears, it is satire.

So, back in the pet(ting) cemetery, and Mary came along for the first time in ages. I gave her some bread morsels. Would the robin accept her handout? As the photo above shows, he certainly did. In fact he sat comfortably on her hand for about 6~8 seconds which is longer than he had ever sat on my hand. (At that point.) Mary says it is because she has a very clear aura. I said it is because she smells like worms. 

The light was good but there weren't many birds around at the tables so we didn't hang about. I do like this photo of a great tit taken just at the point of departure. The camera has got the focus just right and you can see some of the details of the ring on its leg. M and I had taken our bridge cameras and were enjoying a stroll about with nothing better to do than look for jollies to photograph. This is my favourite activity these days and I worry that my running is dropping  right off because I enjoy wildlife photography more. 

pine ladybirds

orange ladybirds

Mary had had plenty - it gets very cold when you do little but wander slowly through the frozen wastes. So Mary left and I took a quick hike along to the Botanics. There's a kingfisher as a semi regular visitor to the duck pond though it mostly stays at too great a distance for decent photos. And is more often absent. I took some pics in the window of the bookbinder at Canonmills.

I thought that (if it is a sparrowhawk), would be the only sparrowhawk of the day.
Maybe not the only owl though! (Spoiler alert: it was.)

I took this photo to catch the maniacal cat but then noticed the book "In Praise of Wine". Haha. Shortest volume ever. "Glug glug glug, mmm delicious!" What else needs to be said? Honestly, anything else is just extraneous and pretentious. Google "blind wine tasting" if you don't believe me. Here is the wiki entry and it is about as damning as I need to defend my bluster...

"Some blinded trials among wine consumers have indicated that people can find nothing in a wine's aroma or taste to distinguish between ordinary and pricey brands. Academic research on blinded wine tastings have also cast doubt on the ability of professional tasters to judge wines consistently."

No such thing as best wine then. There are bad wines for sure but there is no such thing as a best wine. Just opinion. I have a sweet tooth. I like sweet wine. I only ever drink Jam Shed Shiraz or Yellow Tail Jammy Red Roo both around £7 a bottle (Sainsbury's, Tesco's,) and am too old to bother with anything else. It is THE best wine! 😋😜

tit tap

I like looking at junk like this and have to resist buying it and bringing it home to gather dust. So having a place to see it without the necessity of dusting is a boon. I say that like I have ever dusted. 

I kinda love this huge and unsuitable piece of toxic plastic vandalism.

So the Botanics has its annual xmas light show on at the moment. I have enjoyed them in the past but it defo makes a daytime visit less pleasant currently as areas are roped off and there is stuff all over the place restricting access. I had a plan: I reckoned after Storm Frodo, the owl that sleeps high in the Lawson Cypress above the Hepworth sculpture might have descended to a MUCH lower branch and be about head height. I went along for a chat and to photograph it close up. What was a cunning plan turned out to be a FAIL as there was no sign of the tawny owl at any height. I wonder if it found a sanctuary elsewhere for the duration of the storm. Also no sign of the kingfisher. And I couldn't be bothered doing a couple of hours of cold stand to see if it appeared. It was worth a trip to the duck pond though, as there were a few redwings (my first of the season) in the trees overlooking the water feeding on the bright red berries.

heron

goldfinch

redwing

catweazle robin

While at the edge of the duck pond this little robin was hopping about on the ground. He looked like an old timer and when I got out the bag of bread and crouched, he hopped right over and took some from my hand. 

I had a frustrated wander round the Botanics and saw little apart from this marvelously lit shrub which was turning very attractive colours. I was looking through some old blogs and saw it somehow had appealed enough in past years and had made the grade before, even though I had no recollection of it. Given how brilliant a place it can be I am surprised there was nothing more worth a photo. So I hurried back to Warriston.

and was rewarded with a long tailed tit

chaffinch

Chaffinch have been rare this year. They have been fairly ubiquitous in previous, so I don't always remember to cherish them sufficiently. (I have been a big fan ever since I found a dead but otherwise whole one at Aberlady and marvelled at the plumage close up.) However there is nothing like a scarcity to increase its tarrif and I was very pleased by this one - the first on the feeding tables this season as far as I was aware.

Also at the feeding tables were Unda and Andrew, fellow wildlife enthusiasts. Andrew, like myself, has pockets full of goodies to hand out to birds and squirrels. Mr Big of the squirrel world was extremely pleased about the hazelnuts, returning rapidly for more. 

goldfinch

chaffinch

coal tit, great tit

blue tit

coal tit

The light had gone though and there wasn't much to be had. We stayed a while chatting and then I left by the East gate. We went past whatsisname on the corner. If I'd taken more time I reckon I could've put a halo round the back of his head but we were hurrying past and I only just managed to get the sun in his eye. 

sun of god