endlessrarities | (no subject)

I did a lot of writing yesterday. An awful lot of writing. This is good news. I haven't quite sorted out all the relevant issues in this draft of my WIP, but I've made progress. Phew.

I thought I deserved a reward after that. This morning, J and I went out to one of the local nurseries to buy some potting compost. They had none in stock, so they offered us a bagful of their own home-made equivalent of John Innes No. Whatever it is for young plants and seedlings. My begonias, which are used to getting heaved into peat-free, probably won't know what's hit them. This compost is nice. It looks nice. It feels nice. It even smells nice.

After that, we went to Lochwinnoch. We'd planned a walk, but got rumbled in the car park of the Castle Semple centre by a couple of veteran stalwarts from the local chaingang who laughed and asked us where our bikes were. Oh dear... Sometimes there is no escape...

Our walk ended in failure. We were planning a stroll along the lochside, but we'd only walked a couple of hundred yards before we found this:-

After the heavy rain of the last couple of days, Castle Semple Loch has expanded somewhat.. Seeing our route curtailed, we turned around and took a detour via Auld Simon. What is 'Auld Simon'? I hear you ask. You'll just have to wait and see, won't you...

In the meantime, I'll introduce you to my old friend the whooper swan. I've mentioned this poor fellow before, but the last few times I've seen it around, I haven't had my camera to hand. This time, I came prepared. It's become something of a moocher the last couple of years, which is quite understandable, considering that one of its wings has been mutilated as a result of injury. It now hangs out with a crowd of mute swans, and seems to be getting along quite famously. Though I can't help wondering what the mute swans think of this weird interloper - it's quite a noisy thing. Today it was hooting quietly to itself as it cruised around the lochside.

It's a miracle it's made it so far - I was sure the bad weather would be the end of it. It can't be much fun being a flightless swan when the loch's frozen up and the local foxes are starving. But thankfully, it's still alive and kicking, though it'll never see the Arctic again, poor thing:-

Maybe it's quite glad it doesn't have to bother with this long distance migration business any more...

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Had to laugh at that first photo - oh, the perils of low-level walks after a week of heavy rain!

You know? If I'd only stayed at home and looked at Facebook instead of venturing out into the Great Outdoors, I'd have found out that the path was closed due to flooding.

I think I preferred finding out our way...

Oh lovely, thanks for sharing. Poor swan, hopefully the locals help to feed him up during hard times.

Flooded walk, ye gods, how familiar here in the Spring. *sigh* None of those down in OK; I'm very much looking forward to my walks now that I'm back up here in "civilization". I think I prefer your way of finding out, too.

Feeding the swans is a common ritual at Castle Sempill. The local wildlife hospital tried to rescue the injured whooper, but decided it was best to let the creature hang out with its new friends, rather than cause it extra stress by chasing it down and netting it. It's got enough problems as it is...

That sounds like a wise decision to me; let the bird make it's own decisions and cope as best it can.

Reminds me of a poor kangaroo that we had at the Zoo who had to have the bottom half of her tail removed due to an infection. Poor thing coped but occasionally she'd rely on muscle memory and go to lean on her tail. I'd go, "Oh no, baby, don't..." but she would and then topple over. Bless her heart, sad it was but I still couldn't help but laugh. I didn't see her the last time I went but it'd been six years so who knows.

Wow--that first photo. The earth is melting away into water!

Glad the mute swans have accepted the talker.

Wha', you don't have hipwaders? ;-p

Methinks the Countryside Rangers would have oome out to give us a Stern Talking To if we'd tried...

This is why we Yanks became a world power. We laugh in the face of stern talkings to: they're a dare we accept, as we sally forth into certain death in our hipwaders. And we carry 30 clip assault rifles.

(tongue firmly in cheek. All of them.)

Good ole hipwaders! Where would we be without them??

It's been very wet here as well - my usual favourite walk around the Ness Islands is likely to only be possible with waders at the moment!