The times, they are a changin'


Apologies to Bob Dylan for nicking one of his song titles for the title of this post.

Today, faced with the prospect of going anywhere in the UK to further my knowledge and appreciation of the natural world, I chose to visit Walton and Banstead Heath. Even on a local scale, these places are as inspirational as a car tyre puncture at midnight in a ghetto full of crack whores and smackheads. However...

...I had a bloody great time. Birding was helped along by a couple of cracking Mealy Redpolls. I took loads of pictures of, as of yet, unidentified fungi and lichen. The sun shone. I walked along with a beatific smile on my face that couldn't have been bettered by a troupe of Hari-Krishna's on a recruitment drive.

Part of Walton Heath is a golf course. One of the golfers, spying my binoculars, asked me if I had to come and look at the new pond that they had created. Not knowing that it existed I went along to take a look.It looked interesting (see above). Thoughts of summer dragonflies and plants came a' flooding...

...cue Bob Dylan.

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