Unseasonably Warm
02nd November 2015
Unseasonably warm
It has been an interesting Autumn as October was very warm and dry and the beginning of November being excessively wet. Everything has had the appearance of autumn, mists and fogs, the leaves changing to every possible hue, along with the nights drawing in. However, regardless of these typical autumnal changes the day temperatures have hovered around 19C and there has been no hint of frosts in the mornings.
Despite these unseasonably warm temperatures the activity of wildlife has seemed to be following their normal autumnal patterns. The Fells have been bursting with colour and many species of migrating birds have been stopping off as they journey south. I have seen large groups of Geese flying over head and large flocks of Golden Plover (30 to 40 birds) on the high slopes high above Kentmere and Haweswater. The males are now wearing their darker winter colours.
Everywhere I go there are large gatherings of finches and tits fluttering from one berry laden tree to the next. Added to these Passerine filled distractions I have seen my first ever Yellowhammer in the Lakes (near Torver) and enjoyed a rare appearance of a Nuthatch by Birks Bridge in Duddon.
Things never stay the same this time of year as the beginning of November has been accompanied by a dramatic change in the weather. All of a sudden the land has been submerged by days of endless and heavy rain and battered by strong, gale force winds. The Lakes feels more isolated as roads have been closed, and any journey requires diligence, planning and extra caution. It has still been unseasonably warm and it may well be these temperatures that have allowed me to see a few Red Campion and Meadow Sweet still in flower.
The one benefits of the shorter days is that it is easier to experience the activity of wildlife during the hours of dusk. Today I was honoured to witness a Barn Owl hunting over its territory. For over an hour I watched it flipping and rolling over the wet bog that was its domain. He would the suddenly hover, for a what seemed an age, before diving onto his prey. This was a precious and wonderful experience, and one that seems particularly connected to this time of year.
As I now look out onto the land I see a tapestry of rocky islands surrounded by the recent flood waters. The landscape appears as if it was from a Robert Louis Stevenson treasure map, with a complex archipelago of hillocks and raised ground sits above flows of water. However, this change in weather marks , tangibly, the passing of Autumn and the beginning of winter. Furthermore, a symbol of this transition is the recent promise of snow (it has already been snowing in the Highlands and there was a fine coating on the higher Fells. Particularly Helvelyn and Fairfield).
With the seasonal change I notice how we subtly change too. We are already talking about Christmas, making roast dinners, setting fires, etc. We are shutting out the dark and cold by planning and changing our behaviour. We want to feel comforted and secure, keeping the dark winter far away. We may view the bleak conditions through a thin transparent barrier, but the warm and snug nest we sit in makes the outside seem far away.
It has been an interesting Autumn as October was very warm and dry and the beginning of November being excessively wet. Everything has had the appearance of autumn, mists and fogs, the leaves changing to every possible hue, along with the nights drawing in. However, regardless of these typical autumnal changes the day temperatures have hovered around 19C and there has been no hint of frosts in the mornings.
Despite these unseasonably warm temperatures the activity of wildlife has seemed to be following their normal autumnal patterns. The Fells have been bursting with colour and many species of migrating birds have been stopping off as they journey south. I have seen large groups of Geese flying over head and large flocks of Golden Plover (30 to 40 birds) on the high slopes high above Kentmere and Haweswater. The males are now wearing their darker winter colours.
Everywhere I go there are large gatherings of finches and tits fluttering from one berry laden tree to the next. Added to these Passerine filled distractions I have seen my first ever Yellowhammer in the Lakes (near Torver) and enjoyed a rare appearance of a Nuthatch by Birks Bridge in Duddon.
Things never stay the same this time of year as the beginning of November has been accompanied by a dramatic change in the weather. All of a sudden the land has been submerged by days of endless and heavy rain and battered by strong, gale force winds. The Lakes feels more isolated as roads have been closed, and any journey requires diligence, planning and extra caution. It has still been unseasonably warm and it may well be these temperatures that have allowed me to see a few Red Campion and Meadow Sweet still in flower.
The one benefits of the shorter days is that it is easier to experience the activity of wildlife during the hours of dusk. Today I was honoured to witness a Barn Owl hunting over its territory. For over an hour I watched it flipping and rolling over the wet bog that was its domain. He would the suddenly hover, for a what seemed an age, before diving onto his prey. This was a precious and wonderful experience, and one that seems particularly connected to this time of year.
As I now look out onto the land I see a tapestry of rocky islands surrounded by the recent flood waters. The landscape appears as if it was from a Robert Louis Stevenson treasure map, with a complex archipelago of hillocks and raised ground sits above flows of water. However, this change in weather marks , tangibly, the passing of Autumn and the beginning of winter. Furthermore, a symbol of this transition is the recent promise of snow (it has already been snowing in the Highlands and there was a fine coating on the higher Fells. Particularly Helvelyn and Fairfield).
With the seasonal change I notice how we subtly change too. We are already talking about Christmas, making roast dinners, setting fires, etc. We are shutting out the dark and cold by planning and changing our behaviour. We want to feel comforted and secure, keeping the dark winter far away. We may view the bleak conditions through a thin transparent barrier, but the warm and snug nest we sit in makes the outside seem far away.