… of the V&A Museum, in London …
… because the image above is upside down.
This is what I really saw. Its reflection in the lake at the front of the building. But I up-ended it.
All along the backwater, Through the rushes tall, Ducks are a-dabbling, Up tails all! Kenneth Grahame: The Wind in the Willows
These are not the best pictures of shelducks that you’ll ever see, but there’s a limit to what zooming can do. I’ll turn to Wikimedia Commons to help me out.
When I woke up on Thursday, this is what I found at the doorstep.
Normal life’s been disrupted by the snow, even more than Covid has ruptured our day to day rhythms. I occupied some of my day yesterday by slogging through the snow to bring you these photos.
I seem to have quite a supply of brown birds in my archive, which up until now, I haven’t shared. Here goes:
The rest aren’t square. But they are brown, so Jude can have them for her Life in Colour Challenge.
Click on any image to see it in it entirety, full size, and without its being obliterated by captions.
P.S. My mystery bird has now been identified by the wonderful Vogelsnipser, whose blog should be on the list of anyone who enjoys birds. His pictures are fantastic. Here’s what he says: ‘The bird on your photo is a stonechat (saxicola torquatus). males in early-year splendor dress.’
All that snow we’ve been having. It’s so pretty, but I bet those poor sheep were fed up. Look at that featured photo. Not much evidence of grass there. So when I passed a neighbouring farm while out with Virtual Dog on Sunday, I wasn’t too surprised to find any number of sheep gathered round the serving hatch. Nobody needed to encourage them to eat up.
We were just strolling up one of Málaga’s neighbourhood shopping streets, when we saw this:
What’s up here?
Murder most foul?
Someone up to no good?
The aftermath of an uprising?
Luckily we soon realised.
These up-ended legs belonged to a plaster mannequin.
The shop where they’d come from was having a makeover.
It was going up-market.
Selling to those Uptown Girls.
On Friday it snowed. All day. All night, the temperature was -5, and all Saturday it got no higher up than zero. Which was fine, because the snow has been, as it was for King Wenceslas, ‘deep and crisp and even’, and perfect for walking in so long as you were all muffled up, with your best boots on.