Local patch

Peacock butterfly

An hour's stroll round the park and the bit of rough behind the school. I see Max's dad (Max is an amiable but very energetic Staffordshire terrier) and wave hello.

"What are you doing out?" he bellows from ten yards away.
"Could ask the same of you!" I shout back.
"The sparrowhawk was over by the bowling green on Monday! Lovely big brown bird!"
"The female? Lovely. I saw her on Thursday!"
"That kestrel was sat on that goalpost yesterday!"
"It's just been sat on the little hawthorn tree! And one of the buzzards was over on Monday!"
"Aye, I've seen it a couple of times lately! What's them little colourful ones with the red faces?"
"Goldfinches. There's a few kicking round."
"They're beautiful them. Max! Max! Bloody hell, where's he got to now?"
"Getting his one bit of exercise a day?"
"Bloody hell. Any road, look after yourself. Don't go licking any trees."
"Nor you. Take care!"

Aside from Max and Max's dad, there were a few more blackbirds and great tits around than the other day. Also considerably more butterflies, with a few dozen peacocks, a handful each of comma and green-veined white and my first brimstone of the year. Still the two chiffchaffs defending the usual territories, the copse between the school and the flyover to Trafford Park and the Northeast corner of the park. Some years a third territory will be established around the footpath, I'll wait and see how it goes this year.

Kestrel pretending to ignore me