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The eleventh hour of the eleventh day of the eleventh month

11.11.16

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A squadron photograph, Italy, 1944.

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Book ending the day

Well, after a first cup of tea finished off by Lucie, we set off for our earlymorning walk to be greeted by a beautiful dawn with the sun not even over the horizon, a little chilly but as yet no ground frost to speak of and wildlife still dozing apart from the odd rabbit and alerted pheasant. When we set off for the evening walk the sky was pretty much the same with just a few clouds and the odd vapour trail from the fast jets from RAF Marham and the USAF at Lakenheath but the sunset was almost, not quite, but almost, providing a matching bookend for the day. It was going to be a frosty night and mist which may thicken was rising from the dykes, all very atmospheric and a pleasure to be alive and see it. Some days you just get lucky.

Code breaker needed

When we were up in Northumberland a few weeks ago I walked Lucie through the parish church graveyard first thing in the morning. As always a long established village has a lot of old graves and this one with the lichen growing on it caught my eye. Now one of the interesting things about these quiet places is the local history that is there, you can read the carving on the stones and see who's who, who was rich and who was poor but this one was quite literally impossible to decode with the erosion and the lichen garden growing it. Spectacular and interesting in a different way you could say.

A Sparrow Hawk's Full English

Out bright and early one morning and while wandering along a headland above a dyke a hen Sparrow Hawk lifted up out of the dyke and flashed by. Lucie and I on the early morning walk had disturbed her finishing her breakfast. There were feathers scattered all round the dry mat of reeds at bottom right where she'd consumed a pigeon that she'd taken out in mid-air and that's all that was left, just feathers. The speed and power of those hawks astounds me, We sometimes see her zooming around in the orchard looking for breakfast or supper with an amazing display of agility and speed. Survival is a tough business.

Bread punch rules

A quick hour and a half on the local river on a chilly afternoon while the Boss had her hair done, it was a first opportunity at the point in the season where I always think the serious fishing begins. No choice of bait just sliced bread, only one large slice used, but I must get something better than Warburtons next time. A roach second cast and they just kept coming. Twenty one lovely roach and three or four skimmers but the roach were the target. Inevitably some Jack Pike arrived, although I deliberately didn't use any groundbait, in the hope of not attracting the Jacks or the Swans to spoil things. Having been broken by a Pike I decided to give it best since my time was just about up.

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The eleventh hour of the eleventh day of the eleventh month

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