A Walk Along the River Great Ouse in Bedford

        The sun was favouring the River Great Ouse with its warmth and light as I arrived to spend a relaxing couple of hours in early September. I strolled through wooded shade towards the riverbank, and as if to confirm the warmth a paddleboarder came into view, soon followed by a narrowboat. By now I was right by the riverbank, and spotted an unusual gourd-like plant floating on the surface on a long stem, which disappeared from view into the depths. A Robin paid a fleeting visit to a shadowed branch of the canopy, so my eye turned elsewhere and a small butterfly caught my and unlike the Robin, it seemed unfazed by my presence. I walked on with boats passing by on my left.
        My lens and I caught sight of the first Dragonfly of the day and from my low viewpoint it appeared to match the desiccated and web-strewn seed pods of its vantage point. Soon I was to spot an abundance of dragonflies choosing far more fresh examples of vegetation, greener reeds waving slowly in the occasional breeze. A Cygnet gently passed by as I captured yet more dragonflies moving from one vantage point to another with occasional dances with potential suitors. I found interesting eddies to capture in the gently swirling waters caused by raised stones close by the riverbank, or clumps of vegetation. Also in the shadows and shallows, the water seemed to glow in the dappled light coming through from gaps in the overhanging trees that had started to shed their leaves by the bank. Drapes of Ivy hanging by the path’s edge seemed to provide a silhouette of an Elephant and its trunk, and I mentioned that to a passing couple walking past me, and they smiled and agreed with my observation! From my constant seeking of suitable viewpoints to choose clear views of birds and insects, I often note that flying insects are always willing to practise their skills by attempting landings on unstable waving reeds and leaves. This day was no exception; several times a landing will be attempted, then abandoned shortly after, when the blade of grass or reed drastically dipped under the extra weight! I also observe shape similarities in nature that have equivalences to human engineered tools — I tempt the reader to spot a dragonfly on the handle of a whisk!
        I don’t only observe the denizens of the animal kingdom on these photo sorties, I also capture fellow humans making the most of these areas, as once again I capture appealing scenes of wave-rippled reflections of brightly coloured paddles and cascading water as they leave the water. Leaf textures and shadows add to their appeal, and overlapping backlit leaves can form shapes that can be recognised as entirely disconnected impressions of other familiar objects — see if you can spot a caricature dog?! Or a Duck in the healed wound of a tree that years earlier had lost a branch. Or the basis of tic toe in blades of grass, or individual characters of the Alphabet? This park also can trace incidental architecture from the time of Egypt’s Pharoahs, and to continue this game see if you can spot a lamp standard keeping its eye on a runner?
        Perhaps it’s just me, but the world is full of interesting shapes and juxtapositions, and this trip just seems brimming with subliminal artefacts! Hopefully, I can catch up with some more of my backlog of images yet to see the Light of Day.

An Abundance of Berries – Portent of Cold Snap?

In Marston Moretaine currently there is a strong showing of berries; red and gold, in the past this has been interpreted as a forecast of a cold Winter, so I wonder whether the bush telegraph is foretelling this as an outcome? Certainly as I took a late afternoon stroll to see whether the bridge over the old A421 might prove to be a good viewpoint to capture a future sunset, the birds were certainly very active and vocal, was their chatter all to do with their reading of the berries, and the possible onslaught of a harsh winter, and Nature’s response in offering the berries to fortify them in the time ahead?

As the sun broke through clouds then hid again, I captured the last of the leaves that still clung to the bushes as the majority now carpeted the ground, the berries provided foreground for the path that tunnelled beneath overhanging branches, and added colour to the black and rust, hooped railings of a bordering garden that shielded the trellis beyond.

As I returned with last of the sun’s rays only catching the very topmost branches, house sparrows flitted back and forth between adjacent bushes chattering incessantly amongst themselves and woodpigeons gently murmured but generally stayed hidden and stationary, geese overflew as did starlings and gulls, and the geese in the gardens of Moretaine Manor occasionally squawked in some local squabble by the water’s edge behind the hedge. I had hoped that as I was out and about with a camera I might be graced by a reasonable sunset, but that was not to be, but on hearing the chatter from the sparrows I had nipped to the nearby car and changed from the 24-70mm to the 100-400mm before there activity subsided for the evening, thus getting a few shots of them and a lone well-preened robin, which had he courtesy not to hide behind the tangle of hawthorn branches.