Post boxes and bullfinches

Post boxes have recently attracted my attention, possibly because they are red and more probably because they seem to be out of step with modern technological progress. Without going into too much philosophical detail, in this age of tweets, blogs, facebook and e mail, it strikes me as odd that we continue with the practice of popping envelopes into post boxes. As the end result of a delivery cannot be guaranteed, one can only assume that they have some sort of hold over us. This is possibly connected to memories associated with having to walk, rather than sit, tap and click.


Of course, I tend to encounter the aforesaid red objects when out and about, walking. This one was close to the chocolate box thatched cottage in the Buckfast Abbey walk.

Although Bullfinches don't have much connection with postboxes, apart from a tenuous colour association, I couldn't resist including Mr. and Mrs. B. in this posting. They were sighted in amongst the flowers this morning. It's the reddish colour again. If there were many more red objects hopping about and carefully placed in obscure settings in walls, etc. nobody would do anything other than take pictures and films. Well, I certainly wouldn't.

Mr. and Mrs. Bullfinch, attracted to matching flowers 

Action update

Determined but needs more practice

Practice makes perfect

The Buckfast Abbey walk

The actual walking (and talking) began and ended at the tiny village of Scorriton. However, the refectory at Buckfast Abbey was the meeting point and focus of morning coffee and afternoon tea. The walkers also used a picnic as an excuse for a rest on the long uphill climb which resulted in impressive views. The sky looks threatening, but it hasn't actually rained for weeks and weeks.

A typical view from the top of a long uphill trudge

The path, with a pig run to the left of the fence

The handsome, very happy, intelligent (!), spotted pig which demolished leftover sandwiches.

A perfect picnic spot for another time

Distant views

This walk had everything - even its own chocolate box thatched cottage.

Random colours

An unusually colourful congregation sighted going into Exeter Cathedral last weekend.

There wasn't a plastic bird (or congregational sheep) in sight in this gaudy gift shop window in East Looe yesterday.

The weather is not as bright and sunny as it was when I planted all those front porch pots, but the plants are growing and beginning to show off their colours.

Pheasie

A Chinese Reeves Pheasant (known as Pheasie) wandered into our garden and stayed around for about four years. It became well known in the neighbourhood and we were surprised that it survived for so long and in such good condition, considering the nearby busy roads, many resident foxes and harsh weather conditions.

Pheasie became very frisky during early summer and would make a lot of warbling (I fancy you) sounds and follow any human that happened to be in the vicinity. It barely uttered a squeak at any other time of the year and was generally aloof and not particularly friendly. 

We felt sorry that it seemed doomed to live a solitary life, spurning advances made by one particularly keen lady pheasant admirer, which was unfortunately not of the same species.

Pheasie playing hard to get

Although not a friendly bird, he would settle for long periods on favourite window sills, usually for a doze and/or a preen. He put up with us, probably disturbing his 'me' time, when we used the computer which was close to one of his favoured spots. Of course, we convinced ourselves that he enjoyed the company - and maybe he did. He was on a window sill when the above event took place, causing us much more consternation and excitement than it apparently did to him.

Oh what a beautiful pheasant! - Pheasie in his heyday

Solve the mystery

Can you identify the bird imprint in the window which I'm looking through?

Happy family

A distant view of a happy swan family and a heron playing hide-and-seek.