When the world turns

For weeks now tractors have been rolling through the village pulling carts laden, first of all with hay, and then with straw. From dawn until late into the night they've been working to beat the weather.

Now it's changed.

The trailers are loaded with manure. Fields are being covered with it: soon it will be ploughed in, winter wheat planted and the cycle will start over again.

Leaves have picked up an autumn tinge, to match bare fields. With summer over the routines of work take over and children are marshalled back to school.

We're heading towards the short days and long nights.

Watched by vultures

They're always there:

On the roof, at the edge of sight but

Within earshot.

Waiting for us

To turn into

Carrion.

Temporary shelter

On the beach at Cape Cod, Massachusetts. Saltmarshes in the distance.

The beginning of the New World, or the end of the Old?

The Fall is just around the corner.

Things are never the same.

The Old Man of Mallyan

Sixty feet doesn’t seem very high for a waterfall. Until you stand under it. Mallyan Spout is the tallest waterfall in the North Yorkshire Moors National Park. Even if it hasn’t rained it’s worth seeing, as the water pours through moss and assorted hanging greenery – which is no doubt why it’s often called the Old Man of Mallyan. After rain it’s rather different.

However, you can walk along the footpath and stand in front of the waterfall – or, if there’s enough water, through the spray.

The little valley encloses you, and all the sounds of the wider world are absorbed by the trees, rocks and water. Time slows.

(Image from: www.nationalparks.gov.uk)

A Shot in the Dark

Feeling like a child at Christmas I eagerly await the arrival of my new air rifle!

Hopefully in a few days I'll be adding some sea bass photos to the site (that's if I can catch some for you).

A Passion for Angling

Here are some clips from a magical series. You can now get them on DVD, so it's a way to engage in some reflective moments when you're otherwise stuck in a more tedious existence.

Dreaming of tight lines

I hear lake water lapping …

Or a river running.

It’s all about water, and fishing – or, more to the point, the possibility of fishing, the thought of fishing.

Norman Maclean’s book ‘A River Runs Through It’ sums up the atavistic delights of water and fishing. I've just seen that Film4 is screening it this evening.