Fernworthy
Catkins, birds and assorted insects. I stalked the great crested grebe in the traditional ‘wait till he dives and rush closer before he surfaces’ way. All very ‘weeping angel’. The siskins, finches and warblers (chiff chaff?) were out in force and too busy singing (and jumping) in unaccustomed sunshine to take much notice of me. The blackthorn isn’t flowering at Fernworthy yet and the old sloes are hanging on and quietly rotting. I’m not sure why the peel-like fungus has chosen to appear now – maybe it’s been there all winter.
