Spring Propaganda

Springtime in England, although much praised by writers and poets, nevertheless finds it necessary to operate a finely-tuned propaganda machine. At regular intervals, from February onwards, it organises brief spells of weather to convince all optimists that the dull, dreary days are gone forever and from now on it will be a gentle freewheel all the way into the summer. One such day was at the beginning of this week.

We found ourselves in the familiar setting of Fen Drayton Lakes bird reserve, but with unusually blue skies and pleasantly warm temperatures - no need for gloves and scarves anyway.

Suddenly everything looks brand new: the murky winter skies are doused with a good sprinkling of sunshine, the breeze playfully ruffles the reeds, and even the muddy footpaths become springy turf beneath our boots.

Regular readers will know that I have a small obsession with photographing reeds and rushes, particularly when they are backlit by the sun.

Even if I didn't like them, it would be tricky to keep reeds out of my photographs here at Fen Drayton. It's hard to imagine that just a few decades ago this was a working quarry, excavating sand and gravel for the building industry.

How could you not think that spring was already here? How could you even imagine that just a couple of days later it could be as overcast and drizzly as it is just outside my window as I write this? They're even talking about sleet and overnight frosts again.

'Tis all propaganda, I tell you! And speaking of which....

Here come some proper ganders (sorry!). A mixed group of Greylag Geese and Canada Geese were disturbed from their sunbathing on the riverside meadows.

As impressive as Concorde in its way! And not even native to these shores; Canada Geese were brought here to beautify wildfowl collections, but it didn't take them long to escape and establish themselves in the wild.

The path alongside the River Great Ouse was uncharacteristically dry and made for easy walking.

More reeds, John? Yes, I'm afraid so, but cut the old chap a bit of slack, sometimes he photographs some very weird stuff, like tree-shadows on the side of a shed....

See what I mean? Back to the scenery....

There were surprisingly few people about enjoying this fine day, that's the advantage of being retired and able to get out and about during the week, I suppose. But there was something abroad which I hadn't expected....

Not a very convincing photo, I'll admit, but you'll just have to believe me that it's not a discarded yellow handkerchief, but a Brimstone butterfly out enjoying the sunshine. It steadfastly refused to settle so I had to try to snap it on the wing, which proved to be very tricky. Brimstones are one of the few butterflies that can come out of hibernation on any sunny day in winter and then go back into hibernation and thus survive.

It's doubtful that there's anything for a butterfly to feed on at this time of year. However we face no such problems: we're about to make our way to The Bridge at Clayhithe for a hearty pub lunch. 

Take care.