Monthly Archives: February 2014

Humpback Whale

Dooderooneys   I’m afraid the last two days have been a washout, literally. The non stop rain, despite two pleasant sunny afternoons, has sent the water up higher on the scrape just when we noticed it declining a little. I won’t chance the Ancient Highway yet, so I’m still traversing the high road through Worth and Sholden passing through Checkpoint Charley at Sandwich. Fortunately I have a permit to pass through the toll booth, but it’s still a tad exacerbating having spent ten minutes waiting for  a train to pass through the Sandwich crossing. I managed a few smudges, but because of the lack of waders I’m getting a little repetitive with the lady lucks, so I’ll leave you with a smudge of a cheeky shelduck drake landing on the scrape and an ode  I penned of the Humpback Whale  hasta la Rasta    x i jah de Q

Image

 

 

humpback whale

 

Sing to me leviathan      five hundred miles from where I am

Serenade with golden chords      euphonious tender words

Sing to me sweet humpbacked whale

Senses assailed by aqueous tale

Let me hear wondrous note transporting from cavernous throat

Across an ocean bed to me

Swimming free beneath the sea

 

Bewitch me with enchanting sound

Conducting to pure pleasure ground

Swirling round and round       sensually aground

Floating melodious wave       through coral architrave

Sing to me sweet giant fish

Lay my ears a dainty dish

I’m febrile      flushed      feverish

Please grant this wish

 

Whisper       whistle        warble        wail

Sweeter than Berkeley’s nightingale

Thrashing water with fantail

Broad as brigantine mainsail

Rendezvous in ocean vast

By sunken galleon’s mast

Shipwreck of time    well past

Pillaged      plundered      piratical phantast

Let me hold you in my arms

Feel resonating charms

In watery depths of Sargasso Sea

Off turbulent coast of Tripoli

Divine piscine        please come to me

Rhapsode enchanting harmony

 

 

Advertisements

Beauteous morning

Dooderooneys  What a beauteous morning at Restharrow scrape. I’m hoping the sunshine will evaporate the puddles and tadpole lurking rivulets adumbrating the Ancient Highway. Yesterday my pal Bernie manoeuvred the highway to the scrape, so I might give it a whirleypoodles shortly. My problem is my old kipper is low slung and is susceptible to tadpole ambuscades.  This morning’s sojourn at the scrape was enlivened by the presence of Duncan who meticulously counts the wuzzoes, autochthonous and fugacious.  And what a delightful mix we had. The water rail was skulking among the reeds. We had thought he’d taken a powder with the inclement weather, but, oh no, he lurketh still.  Something suddenly disturbed the wuzzoes at the water’s edge and they moved en mass off the banks, some to the centre of the scrape and others to fresher fields (as they say).  Well it wasn’t Mr Stoat creeping along the bund but a wily old sparrow hawk who concealed himself in a willow tree overlooking the scrape.  The other surprise was two snipe who were flushed out and whizzed over and settled on the other side of the scrape.  We’ve been looking for snipe for weeks, so it was a nice surprise.  Duncan’s count included 22 gadwall, similar number of tufties, mallards and shovelers.  There were four pochards (3 drakes & duck) and faarsands of teal.  Hundred before Sparky and 420 when flushed. There were also 4 little grebes in a continuing punch-up over territory which makes a change from the mashuga coots.  I did manage a smudge of a rather lonely mute swan youngster who gave me one of my ‘fashion shoot’ poses, which I include for your delectation.  Also, I liked the light shining on the golden mince pies of a little group of handsome tufty drakes showing off for the girlies, which I also enclose    tooty frooty machachas   x i jah de Q

Image

Image    

Pulchritudinous Pochards

My doodiferous friends     what a strange day today.  The old current can’t make up its mind.  Hat on, hat off, hat on, Oy Vey Becky.  At the scrape I smudged the wuzzoes in-between bouts of titfer movement. But I was in luck this morning, the pochards were at last swimming close to the hide enabling me to get some smudges as they dived below the surface. I was joined in the hide by Bernie, which is always a pleasure (also he does an accurate bird count) which made a pleasant morning more enjoyable.  I leave you with a couple of Barnaby Rudge’s of the preening and pulchritudinous pochard drakes ‘giving it plenty’.  a toot a lorry  x   i jah de Q

Image

 

Image

At last the Current’s got his titfer on!

Yo Doodsters  Hooray, the old current bun is now peeping down on us.  The water on the Ancient Highway is gradually dissipating, although the wicked tadpoles still lurk. Dixon’s Corner is particularly spiteful with quite a few motorists coming to grief there. Once again I took the high road through Sholden, picking up my china Duncan  on the way. What a glorious morning we had at Restharrow Scrape.  Mind you, because of the high level of the water the duckers were keeping to the reeds at the side of the scrape, but the divers were whizzing about all over the shop disappearing under the water and appearing somewhere else. The divers were mostly tufties, teal, pochard, little grebes and coots. I suppose it was too deep now for the duckers (mallard mostly) to pick up from the bottom. I was delighted to see that we now have 2 pairs of little grebes on the scrape which makes up for a lot of whizzing and ‘chase me Charley’ shenanigans, making a change from the mashugana and belligerent coots.  There was also a lot of activity from the teal with little groups of drakes chasing the girlies. I enclose a smudge for your delectation as well as a Barnaby of a tufty lady displaying her underwing.              as always, with kindest rhubarbs    i jah de Q

Image

Image

“It’s all gone awful!”

Dooderleys  Well my drears, what is going on at Deal beachfront? ‘As I drove along the prom with an independent air, all the girls declare’*, not “He’s a millionaire” but “Wot the fluffs going on there?” Not that Deal front resembles in any way Monte Carlo, but it does have its glamorous moments, and at the moment this isn’t it!  Oy  Vey Becky, what is going on indeed?  I do hope the beach is sorted out soon, I can’t even get a bearing on the fissures of Ramsgate’s cliffs so I can judge the visibility for smudging at Restharrow! Fortunately the water is receding along the Ancient Highway, but the dreaded tadpoles still lurk! I was lucky to be chauffeured by Lady Q in her large SUV, but I don’t think my old banger would make it yet. I presume the council will come along soon and fill in the tadpoles, otherwise there’s going to be quite a few unhappy bunnies putting in damage claims, innit. Mind you, at least the weather is looking good, especially yesterday’s brilliant blue skies, and this afternoon was extremely pleasant (for a change) A Bientot mon amiepeeps    x i jah de Q

*The Man who broke the bank at Monte Carlo   1892 by Fred Gilbert   a popular music hall song

Image

 

Mick & Lillian in Hastings

Doodsters     What a glorious day it was yesterday (Saturday)  Unfortunately I didn’t go birding, but, as Lady Q was at Quack Towers for the weekend we thought we’d go to Hastings and visit the Jerwood Gallery. There were lots of wuzzoes whizzing, but they were greedy brutes looking to pick up the edible detritus left behind by the folk perambulating the shoreline. Of course I’m talking about the handsome herring gull.  Mind you, young Kaibosh soon sorted them out if they came too close when after my aesthetic stimuli at the jolly Jerwood, Lady Q, Kai and Yours T settled on the shingles to tuck into a feast of Lillian Gish & Jagger’s lips purchased at a  beachside take-away. What could be better? Unfortunately, I didn’t bring a camera along for this outing, but managed a smudge of a beached fishing boat through the window of the Jerwood art gallery with my iPhone.   Hasta la Pasta      x i jah de Q

Image

Maned Goose

Hi   Doodettes      The water’s still high (and the tide -courtesy Blondie) and the fields still waterlogged.  But oh joy, the old current bun is shining down on us.  What a treat. I didn’t trust the tadpoles this morning, so traversed the high road again picking up my chum Duncan on the way. What a glorious morning at Restharrow scrape.  Mind you, not many wuzzoes came close to the hide and unfortunately, because the islands are submerged, most smudges are long distance ones.  I did manage a few Barnaby’s of the little grebes diving and coming up with sticklebacks. I enclose a smudge of a pretty young lady lil grebe with a small silvery fish in her beak as she is about to toss it up and around so the spines won’t stick in her gullet. As there is a dearth of close posing wuzzo, I’ll enclose one I took earlier at WWT Barnes. It’s of a maned goose, an Australian wood duck          hasta la doo dah  i jah de Q

lady grebe

maned goose