The Bridge of the five arches..

The air wears the colours of autumn. I take a small diversion to walk to the beat of the crunch of crisp autumn leaves. Am pleased with the effect. We are thankful for the sun, Days like these a rarity in Autumn. Our mission to walk London has seen us discover many hidden treasures.  We follow the jagged course of this merry river , Cray - A tributary of Darent. Am still amazed at how close his beautiful walk into the heart of Footscray meadows is  from where we stay. The trail is busy with amblers.

We first catch sight of Cray but she soon meanders off and we need to walk around a bit to actually catch up with her, Her waters thick with floes of autumn leaves.  There is still a lot of green. But we can see the yellows and golds pushing through. Before long it will be winter.
Autumn never ceases to amaze me. I come from a country of two seasons - Summer and Winter , or rather Summer and mild summer :). The vegetation back home heavily deciduous, our trees let their leaves go every summer.  The festive colours of Autumn always holds me in a trance.

First sights of River Cray..

We don't think the river is very deep from where we stand. I tentatively touch the water. Its cold as expected. Just ahead a dog jumps in , in pursuit of a stick thrown by the owner. He doesn't seem to mind the cold and paddles back eager to resume the game.

Walking along..

Sun Kissed, and Autumn ravished the path stretches invitingly ahead to the accompaniment of a gentle breeze. Its beautiful. We walk into this rolling woodland, our pace gently and unhurried.

The path stretches ahead..

Markers of Autumn..

Walking along..

The Footscray meadows have long since been designated  as a nature reserve.  If I had known I would have got some bread along.  Slowly we see others of the more striking plumage, native to the habitat here- Swans, Coots, Gulls, Mallards and Moorhens.

Moorhen..

We first discern black shapes. They are not blackbirds we decide. They seem too big and their beaks too bright. We later discover they are Moorhen. We cautiously approach as not to scare them away. They oblige and we get the pictures we are looking for.

A swan preens itself..

Not too far a swan preens itself , resplendent in the sun, the whites of its feathers bright and its beak beautiful in its orange, every movement full of grace. I know better from previous episodes along the Thames that these are birds not to be messed with and content myself with the pictures I get..

A swan sails gracefully past..

A mooorhen...

As we walk down the bridge of the five arches emerges into view, charming and quaint, sitting on the river fussed about by trees and birds and people along the banks.

The renovated structure of the Bridge of five arches..

First built in 1781, this structure was renovated later to what it stands today. We stand on the bridge and survey the flowing river. Do still waters really run deep? The river doesn't seem to give any aura of deception rather it seems plain faced and honest and content with the way things are going..

The Lake

The Local flora and fauna..

The bridge of the five arches..

A different view..

The view is beautiful. As always bridges seem to capture the drama of life. Rather they become a backdrop against which things are played out- people strolling, families happy in the moment, picknicking on the grass, owners with their dogs and dogs with their owners.
We watch as one sunny black lab looses sight of the stick that has been thrown into the water, trashes about wild and happy in the cold waters, refusing to give up chase. And so his owner in an attempt to get him out throws another one in. Very easily pleased he clambers out, with the trophy in his mouth, proud of himself and seeking approval from his master standing a little away from the bank.

I have to find that stick..

Dog days..

The bridge seems to divide the river in half, one lower than the other, Its waters cascading through the arches.

View of the waters from on top..

The waters cascade through the bridge...

Time flies when you are having a good time. We realize we have been standing here a while. Its a  gorgeous day, the sun still high. Under the cool shade of a neighboring tree we can feel the constant chill that seems to be hovering around London, banished only by the presence of a yellow sun. It wont last long we know.  Visions of a busy week momentarily surface and we remind ourselves that we can't linger on any longer and we walk back turning every now and then to catch sight of the bridge of five arches.

A close encounter of the Puffin kind..

We are on our way to see Shetlends showiest inhabitants.. yes I said showiest, white face, black eyes, orange feet, the entire deal. Am super excited. The morning air is cool. The sun is out and theres not a cloud in sight. Samburgh Head is the Southern most tip of the mainland.

Winding our way to Samburgh Head..

In a distance we see a lighthouse, the first that was built in Shetlands. That's not its only claim to fame as we were to discover. It was built by Robert Louis Stevenson who accompanied Sir Walter Scott to Shetlands in the 1814, a journey which made itself into the pages of his book 'The Pirate'. We park and walk up. At first we see nothing. A Fulmar sits totally indifferent to our presence.

Samburgh Head, with the lighthouse built by Robert Louis Stevenson in the background

Recent Sightings..

We walk a little further and peek over a wall. And then we see them black and white specks in a distance. I cant get good enough pictures even with my full zoom. They are incredibly cute birds.

Puffins.. The first ones we spotted :)..

Two to a pod..

I read that most seabirds are loyal, pairing for life and staying faithful to their partners.And so most of the return to the same nests year after year.  Puffins spend the winter out at sea and when summer comes romance is in the air. Happy reunions marked are by rubbing their beautiful orange bills and they are back together again. Their size can be deceiving , and they have powerful feet and beaks which helps them carve out little homes along the cliffs. They nest in burrows and are locally called the 'Tammy Norries'.   

Check out my Orange feet...

They are extremely pretty birds. We walk up and we see more puffins. This time a lot closer. We stay out quiet , so that no noise scares these beautiful little things away. Every now and then one of them decides to fly down into the water below. they look more like butterflies and they might not compare very well to the graceful gliding movements of the fulmars , skuas and gulls. But what they lack in flight they make up for in plumage. Undoubtedly the most photogenic among all the birds we have seen here.

Oops...Lost my footing.. 

We walk up to the lighthouse and spend some time looking at things there. The views from up here are stellar. Blue seas and clear skies. Samburgh head is the best place to spot Orcas they say. But we are in the wrong season for such sighting. We shall come here again.. :)

We leave Samburgh head waving goodbye to the bright visions of orange , black and white.

Meena 

Walking Mousa..

An early flight to Shetlands saw us land in this beautiful cluster of islands with three entire days of exploring at our disposal. The sight of the mighty blue ocean encircling the cliffs, vast expanse of blue skies , sun splashed grassy hilltops ; We drive through all of them and our cab driver tells us, The weather isn't this good all the time, you guys are lucky.. I love the Scottish accent. It is ever so cute.

We check in and explore the town a bit. We've read so much about this place and yet every step surpasses any expectations we might have had from hours of armchair travel. Its beautiful.
Our morning is to plan how we would make best use of the next three days. We are not lucky enough to get on the ferry to Samburgh head, but the afternoon ferry to Mousa is available. Thrilled to bits. The sounds of seagulls squeaking over food is a constant, as numerous as crows they seem to perfectly glide over the smooth blue skies wiping away any clouds that might have been in sight...

On the boat to Mousa..

Our little ferry leaves only in the afternoon. Our ride costs us 15£ per head. We would have 4 hours to walk the island. Lying off the east coast of Shetlands , we ride about 30 minutes from Lerwick before we can sight land. The island emerges into view, a brown line against the distant horizon . It is currently uninhabited we are told. But there was a time when this was a Norse settlement. The island itself is not very big; about a mile and a half in length and a mile in breadth.
As we step off our boats we are given maps; reminiscent of those given out during treasure hunts :)..
There are 7 points neatly marked out. We begin and walk along with the group. In a while everyone meanders off into their own private spaces. Just like any other journey a tour of an island is always a very personal thing.

The world is my canvas..

We peek down from where we walk. The cliff is full of birds. Right below us cormorants hang their wings out to dry.  The Shetlands are home to millions of birds. The sky and water is alive with life.

Cormorants, sitting by the cliffs and hanging their wings out to dry..

Endless Blue..

The grass is soft. Our legs tire easily. Every step seems to sink into the soft ground beneath. Its not very good for the legs, S comments. In the very ancient Scandinavian 'Old Norse' tongue, Mousa would mean Moss island and this is probably why. The island is teeming with life. There are no trees as with most of Shetlands. But grass abounds. We are so close to the poles we realize; Almost at the Earth's end.

A Fulmar sits on a rocky ledge..

The rocks are spotted with yellow patches. Inch closer and its algae we realize. They look more like a splash of the gorgeous afternoon sun drying up on the huge wet rocks. Unbelievably beautiful.

Walking down Mousa.. 

As we walk on, the marking on the map become less understandable. We try to make sense of the turns we seem to take. We walk upto what looks like a rocky wall. Some of the others who got there ahead of us seem to be looking out in silence. We read the sign which says the spot is perfect to view Seals and Otters. We stand there for a while. Couple of Fulmars swoop ahead. They seem to be flying low. 

We probably are very close to their nesting grounds.  We are right in the middle of what is rightly their home and they will do everything they have to to defend it. Walking a little way beyond the wall we see why. We guessed right on this ocassion. We see the wall has fulmars sitting along its length  in different places. Their body language says 'Do not Disturb'..

The Iron age  Broch in a distance

We walk on and a huge stone like structure looms on the horizon. This is Mousa's most famous inhabitant; A 2000 year old iron-age structure - 'The Mousa Broch'.  We walk upto this stone built castle and look up to see it towering 43 feet above us. We walk in. A comment on anything as old  as the Broch comes automatically prefixed with probably and so it goes that this was probably used in defense or maybe even as some sort of status symbol. Mentioned in old texts as a hideout for eloping lovers , there are 120 other such Brochs through the Shetlands.

A closer look at the Broch..

Standing in a circular clearing , the walls tower over us. There are torch lights kept aside for those who want to explore. I am suddenly claustrophobic. We can hear signs of activity in these walls. This is where the smallest bird of the Shetlands, The Stormy Petrels come to nest. But to see them we have to visit by night as these tiny birds not much bigger than a sparrow are off to the feeding grounds by day. The Stormy Petrel , of which there are 10000 nesting pairs here in the islands, fly along the Arctic and look for Plankton on which they feed. The broch lays claim to being UK's biggest Bird Box!!

Inside the Broch..

We can climb to the very top, someone is already there before us so we wait our turn. But then we abandon the pursuit as the walls are too narrow.

Walking up..

We walk away looking back. The blue seas and the bluish sky makes for a beautiful setting. If there was a god he would have to be an artist, probably impressionist ;)

On the other side of the Broch..

We walk up a little higher. The grass gets thicker. Our senses perk up. Its amazing how even after millions of years of the human civilization living in cities we have not lost our instinct to survive. Our ears hear more clearly and our eyes catch sight of the slightest of movements. Suddenly two big brown birds emerge into view. They are sitting on the high ground. We did not know then, but we had come face to face with the 'Great Skua' or 'Bonxie' as it is more commonly called. They along with gulls and terns nest inland. Each pair could be guarding a nest with upto two eggs or chicks even and are known to dive bomb people who get too close. Everything about their aggressive body language tells us to run and in retrospect it was a little foolish to stop to take pictures. But in my defense I did capture the posturing male.

A  pair of Great Skuas...

We beat a hasty retreat and our map doesn't say much. We are lost we admit. We check how we are doing on time. We have a little over an hour to find our way back. Reconstructing scenarios of people lost on lonely islands I become a traveling companion's worst nightmare.

Evening glory..

We get to a point and realize we are inside the area where seals come to nest. In a distance we can see them. We stand quietly watching.

Seals in the wild..

The Shetlands are home to two kinds of seals - 'The Grey Seals' and 'Harbour Seals',  told apart by the shape of their snouts.  What looks like an inland pond we discover later is one of the largest nesting places for seals. We can see a few in a distance

The grey seal

I really need to zoom in. Its so beautiful, primeval even. There are no sounds except for an occasional bird calling out to another or screaming out its isolation to the skies.

The wind blows, the sun is  getting hot against my bare skin, my feet are grass tired and my partner is anxious. Reluctantly we walk. We are not sure if we we are on the right track but we know its time to find out. We see others walking back to the boat in a distance. Suddenly hungry we split an energy bar and gulp down the last bit of water we have left.

Puffin in a distance..

We take the boat back. That night we sleep , almost dreamless. We discuss it the next day over a hot steaming cup of tea...
Its probably more fresh air than we can take, S comments.. I have to smile! :)

Three Days in Shetlands...

And so we were off. With Inverness behind us and on the road to Aberdeen , I read as much as I can about the Shetlands. This is what brought us to Scotland. It all started with a brilliant program on the BBC called 'The Shetland Diaries'. Even though vicarious, every episode brought with it a sense of wonder- Birds of every colour and WHALES!...
Unfortunately we don't have much time on our hands at Aberdeen. Its more a stop over.
We catch the first flight to Lerwick tomorrow... Here we come!!

Of Garden Visitors of the very special kind..

The seasons are changing, and its wonderful to see evidence of that change all around.
Its amazing what a little bit of sunshine and a little rain can do. All around I see hints of colour breaking through otherwise brown ground. The first blossoms of, if I may say spring.

The garden is bustling with activity. And if not for the cold I would be able to camp out more easily trying to get a few pictures..
And today I did spy the magpie. After days of watching from my window I finally got the pictures I was looking for. They don't seem to be shy birds. But they did seem determined to not give away pictures of themselves easily. Stupid woman with the camera they must be thinking.
So its become ritual to spot a magpie these days. I search them out and when I find one am happy.

Today the action moved to the garden. It was not just the magpie that I managed to catch, but it was definitely the magpie I was after... :)
Am happy and thinking maybe I need a new set of lenses :)..Wishful thinking!

The Mallards..

A pair of Mallards (photographed during one of our walks in Castlecombe)

The Mallards are beautiful birds. A common sight along the small ponds and water bodies of the UK, their vibrant plumage is a perfect contrast to the clear waters along which they seem to so effortlessly glide..
This twosome of the gorgeous male of the green head and the brown and tawny female , was caught during one of our walks in Castlecombe..
At first sight it does appear like the male wears the prime colours, but as I stare at them I can see how intricately brown and beautiful the female is. The mallards cannot be hunted in the breeding season, and a decline in their numbers has resulted in their addition to the Amber list . This means that their numbers have reduced by 25 to 50 % over the past 25 years.
We stand watching the graceful couple roam the waters and after a while we are on our way..

-Meena Venkataraman