David

Just one heron in West Park on the day these pictures were taken. It was once again standing on the willow which gets the best of the morning sun; standing so still it looked like it was deeply pondering some profound problem.

More from a frosty early morning. Ribes leaves, and once again the ice crystals mare concentrated along the edge of the leaf.

Like tufties, shovellers have only a token presence on the West Park lake except in winter. This year, once again, it’s been one pair which spend their entire time close to the shelter of an island.

Numbers have started to rise again. The day these pictures were taken there were five birds: three brightly coloured males and two females. If the previous patterns are a guide, that will be rising to ten or just over, males slightly predominating.

As the numbers have risen, they have also been getting bolder in coming closer towards the shore to eat.

Neither shovellers nor tufted ducks take any offerings from the people who come to feed the ducks. Tufties dive down to the bottom. Shovellers have a bill which broadens and flattens at the end. That’s what gets them their name. They swim round the water in a tight circle, often in pairs or slightly larger groups, with their bills just under the surface, patiently sifting the same small patch of water for food.

The now desiccated seed pods of a St John’s wort bush, lightly sprinkled with ice crystals early on a frosty morning.

As we head towards winter, there’s a gathering of some waterfowl on the more protected situation on urban ponds and lakes. Over the summer, there’s usually a tiny number of tufted ducks on the lake at West Park: perhaps a pair, possibly as many as four or five. In a few weeks, there will probably be around twenty or thirty.

These four are pioneers of that move. Two were busy feeding, constantly diving under the water. The other two were just resting on the water, doing very little other than keeping a wary eye out for trouble, occasionally stretching for a quick drink of the water.

All four are males. There will have been females, and perhaps some other males, hidden by the island.

Catching icing from the first few frosts of the winter required getting out before the morning sun had time to bring a thaw. Here the ice crystals are concentrated along the edge of the leaves of a rock rose bush.

There’s a row of ginkgoes along Compton Road opposite the former Eye Hospital (there’s still no sign of actual work starting on its redevelopment by the way). Just one of these ginkgoes has any fruit. Presumably the others are male trees.

Almost all the leaves have now fallen, leaving the bare branches of the fruiting tree heavy with their small yellowish load. There’s a lot of fruit already on the pavement below, too.

It’s probably a giant funnel cap mushroom, one single fruiting body, growing on the front lawn of a block of flats which over they years has supported quite a few different types of fungi.

The River Teme seen from Ludford Bridge at Ludlow. A dipper watches the water from the rocks, frequently diving in and walking under the water searching for small fish to eat.

Dippers spend the summers higher in the hills, and come downstream as the weather gets harder with the approach of winter. The chances of spotting one in the same place will depend on the level of the water. These pictures were taken several years ago, at this time of year. If all the recent heavy raIns have raised the river level too high, the birds are likely to look elsewhere for a good hunting spot.

One more species of mushroom brought into Wolverhampton city centre on the street furniture from the recent pedestianisation. These are blackening brittlegills, which had been well on the way with the process of blackening.