Floods of tiers

At the end of last month, putting wildlife-watching to one side for a few days, I travelled south to England for my Dad's funeral. To be fair, my wildlife-watching has much to do with Dad's gentle influence during my formative years, so I don't think he would be too upset to learn that I didn't put it to one side at all. During the drive from Aberdeen to Middlesbrough, I encountered three Jays, birds which Dad always had a fondness for. At the funeral itself, the trees surrounding St Bede's Chapel were bedecked in Autumnal loveliness and birdsong filled the air. He would've approved.

After a small and socially-distanced wake of close family members, I took a walk beside the River Tees at dusk. The colours and reflections were gorgeous, only bettered by finding a Pied Wagtail roost in some trees on the river bank.

In all honesty, I think that Dad was a better father than I was a son, and I shall be forever grateful for his setting of a fine example which made me a better father than I may otherwise have been.

The following day, I had a fatherly task of my own to perform, taking my younger daughter on her first ascent of Roseberry Topping. It was a wild and windy day, the path was slippery underfoot, so as we clung to one another for support, it was debatable who was taking who for a walk.

Some creature was being very careful in marking out this chevron

A dung beetle of some flavour

My thanks to Ruth for the last photo.

The journey home was complicated by the weather, with a host of ferry sailings from numerous ports all cancelled. So whilst the trip south had taken less than 20 hours, the northward bound one was about 42 hours in total. And inevitably, the Covid regulations in force in both countries when I set off were much changed by the time I reached home.