Dreich

It was a day of almost unrelenting mizzle, the damp penetrating to the soul of man and beast alike. I had two plans for today, both of them contingent on my leaving the house early and having the energy to be bothered. The cat tried her best with the first, I wasn't equal to either. It was still plenty early enough for any number of birdwatching expeditions but the weather conspired with my bone-idleness so I had breakfast and set to with the task of drinking far too much tea before heading out for a late afternoon walk over the mosses to see what was going to roost and if any owls were about.

The spadgers and great tits finished off the last of the sunflower seeds and started making inroads on the suet blocks I've put out. I'm putting the blocks out rather than fat balls to stop the squirrels stealing the lot. They've learned how to spring open the caps to the fat ball holders whereas the blocks are in sturdy metal cages that can be threaded onto the feeding station hooks so the weight of the cages keeps them closed. The squirrels can still have a feed but so can everyone else. They'll soon have other things on their minds, there's already a lot of flirting going on along the garden fence. And judging by the sounds coming down the chimney the jackdaws are getting a bit amorous, too.

I'm surprised by how quickly I've gotten used to the parakeets being part of the local soundscape. They're keeping to the parks and roadside trees so far. Fingers crossed they'll stay there and out of my garden.

Humphrey Park Station 

It had been so gloomy the lights at the station had been on all day. It was still only mid-afternoon as I stood in the boding gloom and watched the starlings, parakeets and magpies start to make tracks to roost. There were a couple of dozen starlings, I don't know where they go all day but mid-afternoon they congregate in a couple of big sycamores a couple of roads down before flying off to roost. The magpies have spent all day on the school playing field. The flock of sixteen parakeets came as a shock, I've only been seeing them in threes or fours.

The train was late leaving Oxford Road because it had to wait for the Transpennine Express train that was running even later than usual. I peered into the gloom, the mist hiding the trees and houses a hundred yards away. Did I really want to go traipsing across the mosses in this then hang about til twilight before heading home? Not really. So I didn't. I'll feel dead guilty about it later.