Confiding

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R and I spent a happy day together today, in celebration of the fact that it’s 34 years since we had our first date (though we’d known each other for several years before that). This feels pretty strange to both of us, as in our heads we’re still somewhere in our mid-forties – if only shiny surfaces had never been invented, we’d still be skipping around the place blithely unaware of being old people, but we are where we are.

Anyway, we went to Croome this morning, for the first time in several weeks, and had a lovely – if blowy – walk around the estate. Then we went to Stratford, and ate Italian food as we did all those years ago, sentimental sausages that we are (don’t tell him, but it was his ability to hold an interesting conversation while casually twirling spaghetti one-handed that completely swept me off my feet). So, a good time was had by both of us – but in the midst of all the jollity I failed to get any photos that I liked. I could have posted one of R, but it would be a shame to have him divorce me at this late stage.

Luckily, when I checked the bird reports towards the end of the afternoon, it turned out that the now-famous Blackminster waxwing was still hanging around, so I zoomed off to try to rendezvous with it. The light was lovely, but the bird wasn’t as co-operative as it was on Friday – maybe it’s now¬† taken all the best berries from this sorbus, because it was mostly browsing low down, on the far side of the tree. Persistence finally paid off though, and although I had to shoot through quite a lot of tree to get this photo, I don’t mind the messiness given how well the waxwing has displayed.

I’ve posted another image from the sequence to Facebook, if you’d care to take a look.