A murky and drab end to the week here in Eastern England. The sensible thing to do would be to curl up with a good book, or even tidy up the house, but I was seized by a sudden desire to go out for a walk. Once outside I realised that, because I'd been busy looking after my late mother for the last year or so, it was a long time since I'd been out on such a day. Strange to say I really enjoyed myself and found several small beacons of beauty shining through the mist and drizzle.
The old shed down by the River Mel is still there
Little fun guys climbing up on each other's shoulders
to climb up the tree
Leaves like red tears
A small bridge being gobbled up by the vegetation
Trees joining hands in a country dance
(or poles which have grown up around a tree-stump cut off at ground level)
A tiny yellow parasol
throws up a little sunshine
Polished tree trunks and golden flakes
A small but determined backpacker
A feast for winter-visiting birds
Richness and variety
Better late than never! A buttercup bravely blooming in late October down on Shepreth Moor.