Tag: emus

Derrick And The Emus; Jackie And The Gliders

On an overcast and only marginally warmer afternoon we wrapped up for a forest drive.

From Braggers Lane we were surprised to see golden light on the

horizon. The first picture showing this is mine; the next two, Jackie’s.

The emus were out in their Fish Street field,

Where Jackie caught me photographing them.

On Braggers Lane she had pictured field horses in rugs being led towards a muddy entrance she had also photographed;

and on Fish Street a gnarled oak and spiky teasels.

Realising that the earlier golden glow must have been visible at Barton on Sea, we diverted to there on the way home, and I pictured this group in silhouette,

and Jackie caught I crow, while I

photographed her

photographing hang gliders.

This evening we dined on more of the pork and Bramley apple casserole – always improved when matured – and accompanying vegetables and beverages.

Shared Pasturage

Although it was to brighten a little before we finished our trip into the forest this afternoon, it began very dull and overcast.

At Braggers Lane I disembarked from the Modus to focus on distant landscapes. The last two images include All Saints Church, featured in an earlier post.

Nascent bracken now towered above bluebells on the verge.

Horses grazed in the field opposite. One already wore an eye mask as protection against flies.

Generous assorted sheep and their little black lambs shared their pasturage with emus, ducks, and chickens in a field beside Fish Street. (Note Lwbut’s comment below. The large birds are Rheas)

While I focussed on the field, Jackie photographed the field behind me. at the far end of her vision two cows left their watering hole. One showed no interest, but its companion appeared to display some curiosity. The Assistant Photographer also created an image of the occupants of the field through a gap in trees beside the stream. The thatched cottage stands opposite the gate to the sheep field.

The road bridge provides a link between Fish Street and London Lane, alongside which whiter lambs were penned. This lane, along with many others, was permeated with the heavy, sweet, scent of oil seed rape seen in the distance in the first of the above pictures.

This evening we dined on Mr Pink’s fish and chips, pea fritters, and pickled onions. Jackie drank Peroni and I finished the Merlot Bonarda.