Dryad’s saddles, bracket fungi, seem to be popping up all over the place at the moment. Here were several mature specimens on the trunk of one of the trees by the road leading up Happy Valley, heading up the hills from Great Malvern. Fresher ones, most not yet their full size, on a tree on the bank of the Severn in Worcester.
A small copper butterfly on the lower slopes of Worcestershire Beacon in the Malvern Hills, resting with its wings open on a nettle leaf as it warms itself in morning sunlight.
Even the highest point on the Malvern Hills, at Worcestershire Beacon, is a mere 425 metres (1,395 feet) above sea level. But the views from near the top of the ridge must be some of the widest anywhere in England. Looking north, there’s the hills of south Shropshire; west, the even hillier land beyond the Welsh border. South, the Forest of Dean, and beyond, on clear days, the glistening of the Bristol Channel. East and south-east there’s the rich agricultural land of the Vale of Evesham, the broad valley formed by the Severn and the (Warwickshire / Worcestershire) Avon. The far side of the Vale is the scarp slope of the Cotswolds, with its outliers, Bredon Hill nearest and most prominent. Completing the circle, the city of Worcester is near enough to make out the spires and towers of churches and the cathedral, but the more distant Birmingham and its conurbation are hidden by the lie of the land.
Most of this set are views looking south along the line of the ridge from points near the creat between Wyche Cutting and Worcestershire Beacon. The opening shot is of the massive hill fort around the crest of Herefordshire Beacon, British Camp.
Two different types of damselfly resting in the same laurel bush. An azure damselfly at the top of the first picture and towards the left; a large red damselfly at the bottom and towards the right.
Happy Valley, Great Malvern. The tree-shaded road leading up the Malvern Hills from the town has a small stream or ditch running down the side. A goldcrest made a very brief dive into the stream, bathing itself.
My camera had been left on settings which were right for the bright sunlight beyond the shade of the trees. The bird’s dip was so brief I didn’t have time to alter the settings. Result, these two snatched shots. Impressionist pictures, with the ghost of the goldcrest in the ghost of the stream.
Kestrel over the Malvern Hills, hovering over Worcestershire Beacon. Every minute or so it would swoop, probably after one of the many meadow pipits which were around. Whatever its intended prey, it never seemed to be catching anything.