Wolves Wild

It’s the twelfth day of Christmas, or twelfth night, or Epiphany (for those churches which use the Gregorian calendar). Traditionally, the day the three wise men reached Bethlehem.

The camel was outside a shop in Oberammergau. The elaborate gold chest is behind the high altar of Cologne cathedral, holding the supposed remains of the three wise men. It looks like there was a lot more gold used in its construction that in the original gift.

The small patch of grass under a pair of beech trees which produced several species of fungi this autumn showing one more. The beech milkcap is, as the name implies, a specialist in growing in association with beech trees.

The second of the West Park interacting herons (see previous two posts). The bird had already landed, settled, and started watching the other heron when it first came into view. It didn’t seem to move very much at all for the ten minutes or so that we carried on watching them.

The first of the two herons which were interacting on the West Park island recently (see previous post). This is the slightly smaller of the birds, possibly female. Most of these pictures were taken before the other one appeared.

During this period, the bird was very active preening. It kept turning round, hunching and generally shifting its posture.

Could these two herons be starting a courtship routine in West Park? When we got to the park, on a sunny morning last month, there was one heron perched in a willow on the island (second picture in the set). We paused to look at it, and I fired off some shots. Then we moved a bit further round, to get a better view of the heron and of other birds.

That meant we lost sight of the heron for a couple of minutes as we passed some bushes between us and the lake. When we got a clear view of the willow, a second heron had appeared, perched on the tree and already settled.

The two birds were facing each other directly. I’m used to seeing two or more herons standing or perching in such a way that they appear to be avoiding seeing each other, although perhaps keeping a watch out of the corner of an eye.

These two were in mutual eye contact, and continued in that condition for at least ten minutes.

The later arrival was slightly larger than the one which had already been there. The sexes are similar in herons, other than the males being a little bigger, so it’s possible that was what we had there.

At one point, the smaller bird stretched its neck out towards the other, a movement associated with the species’ courtship display. If that was what was happening, it was very early: mid-December, when the usual time  from February.

They were still doing whatever it was that they were up to when we decided we had been standing still for too long in a cold wind and headed off.

Because they were focussed on each other, they completely ignored our presence. So I was able to get a few more pictures where I zoomed in on the more recent arrival. I’ll post pictures of the individual birds another day.

At first, I thought that this parrot was real. It was in a window in a quiet part of Stratford on Avon town centre.

A model bird of prey on the forecourt of the town’s rowing club. I doubt it has much deterrent effect on those living birds which congregate there. These are geese and swans, waiting to respond whenever someone comes to feed the birds on the opposite bank of the river.

Some portrayals of birds for the new year. Among them, a jaunty jackdaw on a mug, displayed in the window of a residential house on the high street of Rye. Another is a swan, wings outstretched, decorating the hall of the medieval butchers guild on the Grand Square in Brussels.

The pious pelican feeding her chicks with blood from her own breast is one of two birds from a side door of the cathedral at Cologne. There’s a weathervane which was on a high street bank, portraying the logo of that bank.

Numbers of tufted ducks at West Park are slowly rising, as they fly in to use the lake as a refuge for the winter. On my last visit, they all spent some time close to the island. half-hidden by overhanging branches. Finally, a few ventured out into the open water.

The gigantic spider sculpture Maman by Louise Bourgeois: this is the version outside the Guggenheim Museum in Bilbao and a child’s cuddly toy in the form of a tarantula, lost in a road; the sculpture is meant to be maternal, and the toy presumably comforting.

In contrast, a pair of real spiders, female and a much smaller male.

A small patch of grass under a pair of beech trees by the side of Richmond Road has been surprisingly productive of fungi this autumn. Since September there have probably been at least seven or eight different species, easy to spot, at one time or another.

I first noticed these orange peel fungi towards the end of October. The same fruiting bodies remained almost two months later, still giving an impression of some carelessly discarded litter.