The Starlings of the Somerset levels put on their yearly show
With the nights drawing ever darker and the rain seemingly and endless entity throughout our working week, I don’t know about you, but for me the prospect of stepping outside other than to put the horses to bed after work is about all I can manage. However, come the weekend the first thing I want to do is get outside in the country and embrace what Autumn has to offer, rain included.
Last week I travelled to see my brother who now resides in Glastonbury. Having just got himself a rescue dog, a German Shepherd named ‘Bee’, a lot of walking was the order of the weekend over the Mendips, Cheddar and the Somerset Levels; which brings me to one of the most impressive displays of nature I’ve ever witnessed.
Now I wouldn’t class myself as a twitcher, apart from the odd Buzzard hovering above my head whilst out riding I’m not one to usually get too excited about a load of birds, but this was different. Every Autumn/Winter Starlings migrate from the far north to roost in the ‘relatively’ milder British climate, in particular in the Somerset Levels. So here I was, in my new country boots, ankle deep in water watching the shape shifting formations as the Starlings dart about in the dusk sky. The nearest I can get to describing it would be like the old school days when you held a magnet under a piece of paper with iron filings on it; the movement of the filings bore more than an uncanny resemblance to that of the Starlings.
And now, back to work. I wonder what this weekend brings...
Last week I travelled to see my brother who now resides in Glastonbury. Having just got himself a rescue dog, a German Shepherd named ‘Bee’, a lot of walking was the order of the weekend over the Mendips, Cheddar and the Somerset Levels; which brings me to one of the most impressive displays of nature I’ve ever witnessed.
Now I wouldn’t class myself as a twitcher, apart from the odd Buzzard hovering above my head whilst out riding I’m not one to usually get too excited about a load of birds, but this was different. Every Autumn/Winter Starlings migrate from the far north to roost in the ‘relatively’ milder British climate, in particular in the Somerset Levels. So here I was, in my new country boots, ankle deep in water watching the shape shifting formations as the Starlings dart about in the dusk sky. The nearest I can get to describing it would be like the old school days when you held a magnet under a piece of paper with iron filings on it; the movement of the filings bore more than an uncanny resemblance to that of the Starlings.
And now, back to work. I wonder what this weekend brings...
Image © By everywhereisimagined via Flickr, under Creative Commons Licence
Labels: country boots
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