best part of the day: pelmanism

22-10-22 Young people won't know the meaning of Pelmanism. It is both a card game and a method of developing your memory devised in the 1890s by, that's right, William Joseph Ennever. The name however comes from the correspondence school promoting this method of removing "those tendencies to indolence and inefficiency". Clearly I need this in my life; indolence and inefficiency are (often) my middle names.

Back to the card game. A deck of cards is spread out on the table all face down. You take a turn to flip 2, one after the other. If they match (7 of hearts, 7 of diamonds) you keep them and try again. If they don't, you replace them face down, and the next person has a go. Soon your head is a jumble of all the cards in the all the places, and you struggle to remember where you last saw that queen, because to your surprise, you've just turned over a queen.

Life, as one gets past the brow of the hill that could be called middle age, is a descent into the miasma of fog that fills the valley on the other side. Tradition dictates you can't remember why you went next door until you return. Spectacles, keys and cups wander off on their own and there is a greater chance of missing appointments for no other reason than they slipped your mind. As eyesight, hearing and gums recede, the mind also loses something of its sharp focus.

It is not all doom and gloom, this growing old business. In fact I think I am happier than at any point previously, if that is not too banal. More in tune with my surroundings, less frustrated, less dissatisfied with things than ever before. More at peace with the world. (As long as I don't have to rub up against it too much for too long.) But I have to acknowledge the deterioration of the physical (and mental) aging process.

This preamble is by way of explanation to say I can't remember taking these photos. Rather, I can't remember much of what the day held, outwith the evidence of the photos. They were taken on the 22nd October (not even a whole month away and already the day is slipping through my fingers like sand!) It was a walk to the Botanics. Pretty sure Mary was there although she doesn't appear in the photos and I already removed the bulk of the unused pics taken, to the external hard drive. I am running short of space on my internal hard drive and find I have to clear stuff off quickly to keep any free space for new material. I jokingly tell Mary I have to sacrifice old memories to make way for new stuff in much the same way as shifting photos about on hard drives. Only one doesn't get the luxury of choosing what is deleted.

My mum, 92 later this month, has had a lot of her hard drive corrupted by dementia. Sometimes she is partly there, a lot more these days, absent.

I do recall this admiral. Last visit there were 3 on the café buddleia. This visit, just the one tatty specimen. When it turned sideways you could partly disguise the damage. I thought it might be the last one of the year, however a mild November produced a few late specimens.

wren

Another thing I do actually remember from that trip was a feeling of disappointment. The weather was teetering between pleasantly sunny and overcast. I am not a fan of overcast. Both myself and the camera work better in direct sunlight. One exception was this earwig (my mum used to call them clipshears) which sought refuge in this white flower, which lit the insect perfectly. Not maybe the most glamorous subject, but I was pleased to see how well defined it turned out.

we checked the scabiosa japonica for late butterflies
but just bees

Ken, in his natural surroundings

eyes of a predator

On the way home there were a couple of herons on the Warriston side of the Water of Leith. When they look at you from above you realise how their eyes are best positioned for looking downward at fish etc below them.

28-10-22 Another trip, much the same route, many of the same components, but a little more memorable! Maybe I retain things for 3 weeks before they hit the recycle bin?

Mary was along again. She got into the habit of walking when unable to run (most of 2022) and so these wildlife safaris round town became a part of her schedule on account of the fitness angle, rather than solely because of the wildlife spotting (my main motivator.). She is less discouraged by a lack of butterflies, snakes or kingfishers as a result, and is happy enough to have been out doing some miles in the fresh air. Inevitably I have more fun than going solo as we will end up discussing stuff, doing banter, singing or arguing which makes the duller miles whiz by.

I have been watching these berries in Pilrig Street. They have this very complimentary backdrop and I keep hoping that some birds will be there feasting on them next time I go past. None so far. Last year only blackbirds and maybe an occasional redwing or fieldfare, but I'm still holding out for a flock of waxwings. 😁

The wren and wagtail must have been in St Mark's Park. Because these cheeky chaps were on Powderhall bridge. Sometimes I climb down to the riverside from here, and then into Warriston Cemetery, now that the missing bar of the East Gate has been replaced, barring entry. The 2 magpies; are they mournfully lamenting the demise of their friend the squirrel, cruelly cut down by passing traffic? Em no, they are checking the road is safe enough before snacking on their deceased colleague. A crow was also hanging about in the background licking its metaphorical lips. Mary is not squeamish but questioned my enthusiasm for recording nature, red in tooth and claw.

another wagtail in the tunnel ditch, Warriston

I think we went in by the step over the wall near Tesco's cyclepath. It was nice to see the beginning of the return of the smaller garden birds. I had been in for a wander a couple of times over the Summer and found the place less busy with birds. I don't know enough about them to say if they migrate elsewhere or are just hidden by the masses of foliage, or choosing to hide while raising offspring, or a combination of all this. But it does seem that the Winter months are a better time to photograph them - and that they are more appreciative of extra food we might put out.

3 orange ladybirds.

I monitored this particular stone throughout Winter last year. After they started to congregate here, numbers built until there were about 20 (mostly same species) on either undercut. They tend to huddle where the rain or snow cannot collect, and then hunker down for the Winter. They wake in the Spring and disperse. It is difficult to know how or why they choose a particular spot or stone but this one seems to be just right for these orange ladybirds. I had a check the other day and these 3 have moved - possibly to the other side of the stone which has a similar undercut currently homing 9 orange ladybirds. How they arrange all this is something of a mystery.

pine ladybird

You can tell the shortage of "interesting birds" (woodpeckers, treecreepers, bullfinches, birds of prey, anything other than corvids) by these photos of a magpie. Some of the corvids have worked out I can be panhandled. They seem to know I like a strong image and will pay hard cash (bread man!) for a handsome pose. They are reverse engineering the process by catching my attention (often flying by close enough to feel the draft), striking a pose, then asking for a suitable fee. This one got the measure of me and you can see it opening the bill, letting me know how much food it would like in exchange for these images. Smart birds corvids.

on the way to the Botanics Mary spotted this plaque

which must have taken longer to carve than the overnight visit
He died in Paris in 1850 aged just 39.

this shrub next to the café buddleia
has a strongly perfumed aroma

Just before the clocks changed this sundial (made by Ian Hamilton Finlay) was as close as I've seen it to being correct. I think the photo was taken at 2.45pm. It should probably have a wee hinge that allows it to swing an hour for daylight saving, but given how inaccurate it is most of the year that is probably not a super high priority.

reflecting on Reg Butler

Campbell's Magnolia

The seeds of this extraordinary tree pop out of these highly coloured wotsits, seedcases probably. They are so ripely fecund they are nearly obscene. The flowers follow on in late Winter,early Spring, appearing before the leaves. It lives just around the corner from the café.

who are you calling catweazle?

We went past the duck pond to see if the Ken or the kingfisher was about. Usually one of the 2 will be there. Not today though. I thought I maybe recognised this scruffy robin, and sure enough 11 months ago (27th Nov 2021 Blog here) I hand-fed it right here. It came over in such a bold unscaredycat manner that I put my hand out with some bread and sure enough it hopped onto my hand. I scolded Mary for missing a photo of the first occurrence and she caught the subsequent one very well. Better than the photo I took of her hand and an orange blur. Oops.