Wrea Green, a rural village with the largest village green in Lancashire and an impressive duck pond (The Dub), was the start of a soggy field walk. Wellies essential. The first field was full of fieldfares and redwings busy feeding. Two hares bobbled about in the next field. A flash of streaky yellow took off from a field of maize stubble. Yellowhammer or siskin or greenfinch? Binoculars couldn’t keep up with them. Then a giant hare broke cover and scarpered. A kestrel surveyed the fields from a lofty telegraph perch, and sheep nibbled lush grass.
The footpath took us through a farm. “Vermin Control,” said the farmer with a laugh as I took a snapshot. “How many?” I asked. He shrugged. “Too many to count.” I counted fifteen! The vermin control gang wasn’t doing much apart from grooming, snoozing and lazing in the winter sunshine. I imagine it’s a different story at dusk and long into the night.
On sentry duty,
sunning themselves outside the barn
(They do look a bit crotchety!)
The views along this enjoyable walk across the flat fields of the Fylde would have been very different back in the early 1900s. Just a few solitary farms and isolated houses linked by twisting lanes would have dotted the landscape. Today battalions of brick boxes have taken over the fields, spoiling the views, ruining the countryside. Such is progress.
Back home, Mr Pool went to put vegetable peelings in the compost bin. He signalled there was something of interest. I grabbed my camera and took a few chance snapshots of a magnificent sparrowhawk sitting on the garden fence, watching with caution. Possibly a juvenile female (male has orange eyes/female yellow). She swooped into the neighbour’s garden and then shot off. She’s a regular. She’ll be back.
An excellent day for winter-watching
(Rats! – last Winterwatch on the telly tonight)
mybpool 