The Rain it Raineth Everyday

O child, do not go out!
The road to the market is desolate, the lane to the river is
slippery. The wind is roaring and struggling among the bamboo
branches like a wild beast tangled in a net

~The Rainy Day by Rabindranath Tagore~

 

The whole country was under red flood alert warnings as the Atlantic storms named by the US media as Hercules, brought more rain which continued to plague the south while tidal surges battered the coast. More rain fell on already-saturated grounds, putting added pressure on swollen rivers with coastal areas battling high tides and strong winds.  High winds left a quarter million homes without power. Then the soggy country was plunged into a big freeze as the ongoing rain was joined by sub-zero temperatures. Many areas faced disruption from road closures and cancelled or delayed train services as people returned to work after the holidays.

Thankfully the Midlands weren’t so badly affected apart from pockets of flood and road-works springing everywhere. It was also time to get back to normality. My colleagues and I welcomed our new manager into the department. It was also not a good start from him too, as 3 of my colleagues weren’t present due to illness and personal circumstances. We didn’t see a lot of him anyway because he had to attend induction programmes, meetings and getting a feel of the place. We kept the office running as usual. I was finding it a bit of a struggle to get back into a work routine after nearly 3 weeks away from the desk. Mostly due to the early start, waiting for the bus in the dark and the lack of siestas.  But I still managed to start with a bang. I’d a lunch date with HI at Bar Fusion. We have been planning this for ages and just couldn’t get our diaries synchronised. So before our new diaries filled up, we pen in the first date of our working week. We’d to dodge the freezing rain to reach our destination and it was buzzing. The place was full of students lounging about and we found out that they were waiting to enter the examination hall. Well those days were over for both of us coming back from the long festive holidays straight into exams. I ordered my usual soba vegetarian noodle soup which was a blessing on such a cold day. We’d a wonderful time catching up, keeping each other updated to what we’d been up to.

Then I took part in 2 days of Cataloguing as a public service webinar organised by the ALCTS. There was overwhelming support for considering technical services as a public service, and that cataloguing was a basic and essential service. To me, cataloguers were the backbone of discoverability. Without us, items in any form, wouldn’t be discoverable by the users. We provided the data to ready the content for the next technological advancement. If the data wasn’t there in the first place, it can’t be reused. Developing and maintaining accurate access points or authority control was critical to provide effective service discoverability and accessibility. It was 2 days well spent.

The Library Working Group for International Students had its first meeting of the year. The members were quite excited to establish a new collaboration with the Post Graduate Hub as part of their ‘Every student is an international student’ concept. This year The Hub was organising monthly cultural activities to provide both international and home students opportunities to explore different cultures. This was a great opportunity for them to get involved in the university community, sharing information and learning more about other cultures and make the most of their time as a postgraduate students at the university. Our presence there was to support the activities and mingle with the students.

I took the bus to town and found out that the fare had gone up again by 10p to £1.90. Using public transport was getting very expensive nowadays. I was in town because I wanted to check out the Coventry Morris Men Sword tour of the city centre. The bus was late and I was quite worried that I’m going to miss their performances. By the time I arrived at Broadgate, they‘d just started the first performance. I managed to get a front seat and watched them performed a variety of sword dances from North Yorkshire, the Shetlands as well as dances from Herefordshire, Worcestershire and Shropshire.

The appreciative crowd too were entertained by a solo clog dancer from Miss Nancy’s Sylvester’s Academy of Clog Dancing who happened to me PLW, my colleague’s wife. We’d a hug and a chat before she strutted her stuff. Clog dancing or clogging as it was better known was a folk dance in which a dancer’s clog were used against the floor in order to produce a percussive rhythm. This unique dance tradition originated in the industrial towns of north west England in the early 19th century. The dances were performed to original tunes played on melodeon, accordion, recorder and drum.

The final performance was from the Earlsdon-based Border Morris side Elephant up a pole. They danced in rag tailcoats and was a style of Morris dancing from the Welsh Marches. It was originally a winter tradition, danced by men who were unemployed due to the seasonal lack of work. They danced in disguise to beg for beer money and wore a disguise so no-one would recognise them but it was for charity nowadays.    

Those happy Morris dancers make for a happy sight
They wear bright scarlet ribbons and their shirts and trousers white,
They clash their sticks whilst dancing and you hear the timbers ring
Though 'twould seem that Morris dancing is not a female thing.
I've never seen a female Morris dancer I stand corrected if I'm wrong

It has it's roots in England and to England it belong
And I hope that Morris dancing will not go the way of rhyme
That in a changing world it won't lose out to time.

 
They brought their culture with them from England far away
A culture perhaps fading like many of the old cultures are today
With the old dances of Europe I see a link somewhere
And sad to hear that Morris dancers are now becoming rare.

~Francis Duggan~

Then a trip to our favourite playground. There must be something going on because it was quite busy. We noticed that a lot of work had been done around the visitor centre. Thank you to the volunteers on improving the sensory garden, building hedgehog homes and boxes and clearing the ‘mouse maze’. Along the path, we were harassed by the usual culprits. I had to laugh when one refused to fly but kept on looking at the tub. Babe gave up and brought the tub to the cheeky bird and then only it started pecking on the dried worms. It was hilarious.

It was an annual event for us feeding these adorable bright orange-red breast birds. In winter, these resident birds were joined by immigrants from the continent, mostly from Scandinavia. You have to be very patient and still to encourage them to feed from your hands. Often, it was a quick flypast with a quick snatch and grab before skulking in the undergrowth to enjoy the meal. I’d the opportunity to have a few landed on my palm and started feeding. To have these dainty creatures in your hand was quite magical and I felt truly blessed.

“Oh, so light a foot, can ne’er wear out the everlasting flint.”

~Shakespeare~

We walked through the very muddy paths. The flood water must have been very high and strong because most of the reed-beds were flattened and covered with mud. The pair of Golden Eyes were still out and about. The main island had practically disappeared with the natives looking like they were standing in water. We checked the East Marsh Hide and spotted a flock of Wigeons dabbling in close-knit groups at the water edge, whistling contentedly.

Paddle little ducks,
Paddle, paddle all day;
Paddle little ducks,
Paddle, paddle away.

Then we made our way to Carlton Hide to wait for the show to begin. Within minutes, elongated streams of starlings or moots were flying in. They braided together and the shape swelled and shortened, bulging at the edges. Soon any notion of individual birds grouped together was lost. We were watching one being that stretched and flexed and turned in three like an animated computer design. It continued for about half an hour, before the heavy black cloud eased towards the ground and slowly rained down onto the reed beds to roost for the night.

We were grateful to Andy and Kay for taking us to check out a secluded hide in the Warwickshire countryside. The weather couldn’t make up its mind. We were driving through sunny spells and scattered showers and thankfully the thick blanket of fog that had descended overnight had lifted. Along the roads, we spotted little pockets of flood. So much rain had fallen, drains were blocked, grounds saturated and rivers swollen.

“Rain and wind, and wind and rain,

Will the Summer come again,

Rain on houses, on the street,

Wetting all the people’s feet,

Though they run with might and main,

Rain and wind, and wind and rain.

~Katherine Mansfield~

After about 45 minutes, we arrived at our destination, Hillers in Alcester. It was an award winning farm shop with a cafe, garden centre, gift shop and even a miniature railway. We checked those later. We were here for the secluded hide which was situated at the far end of the garden centre. We were glad that we were the only ones there. In front of us was a clearing with vegetables and bread spread out. These were leftovers from the shop. There were also feeders situated at strategic places. We’d never seen so many Great Spotted Woodpeckers in one place.

“Zeus won’t in a hurry restore to the woodpecker tapping the oak. In times prehistoric ‘tis easily proved, by evidence weighty and ample.

That birds and not Gods were the rulers of men

And the lords of the world.”

~Aristophanes ‘The Birds’~

We enjoyed watching the squirrels trying their best to monopolise the peanuts. A few were on the ground feeding on the stale croissants. We find it hilarious that they preferred the croissants more than the bagels and the baps. A Nuthatch came into view and started taking a peanut and flying off somewhere. With its powerful bill, short tail, long claws and sturdy legs , it was well adapted for climbing up and down the tree trunks. And unlike the woodpeckers and tree-creepers, they descended the tree trunks headfirst.

Among the Great and Blue Tits, flying in and out of the bird-feeder, was this adorable Coal Tit. Check out the distinctive grey back, black cap and a white patch at the back of its neck. We saw him taking the food and storing them elsewhere to be eaten later. When food was plentiful, they hoard it so that they have food when times were hard. Unfortunately, its memory wasn’t great and you might find seeds sprouting at some very unusual places.  

Below all these commotion, we spotted a wren minding its own business. Creeping mouse-like close to the ground with its tiny size and cocked tail, it was hunting among the dense cover. The colour made it one of ‘the little brown jobs’ but it has a unique folklore. It had been seen as bad to harm a wren. It was the Druidic bird of augury, and in Cornwall they say ‘hunt a robin or a wren, never prosper man or boy.’

Christmas was over but it was still lovely to see a flock of grey partridges gliding into view. We were very lucky to have seen this flock because although once very common and widespread, it had undergone a serious decline due to intensive agricultural practices and was now on the Red List species. They were quite dumpy with rusty-brown stripes on the flank. They were strictly a ground bird  and was unlikely to be found up a pear trees. A flock of partridges was called a covey.  

♪On the First day of Christmas my true love sent to me a Partridge in a Pear Tree♪

~The 12 days of Xmas~

The hide began to fill up and as usual, when it gets noisier, the natives suddenly disappeared apart from the squirrels. Kay went off to the cafe while we kept on waiting for the piece de resistance, the muntjac. And we didn’t have to wait long when a juvenile turned up. He was so close that we could see its tusks. I fell in love with this handsome fellow with its seductive doe eyes and Bambi looks. It was hard to believe that this Asian barking deer was named as Britain’s most dangerous and destructive deer.

After about 2 hours, it was time to leave this magical place. It was also freezing in the hide. As we walked out, a flock of tree sparrows and Goldfinches were flying around the garden. There were lots of arches with bare branches twinning around them. I think this garden would look amazing in summer and spring when everything was green and flowering. I looked at the rose bushes and among them were David Austin and other old-fashioned roses. I might get a cutting if they were on sale. I also had a wonderful surprise when I spotted my first snowdrop.

We went into the gift-shop and I came out with a fridge magnet to add to my collection. Then we checked out the farm shop. A pot of purple-flowering Hellebores caught my attention but it was just too expensive. The shop had plenty of seasonal items with a good section of locally grown vegetables. We purchased cavolo nero and a coffee walnut cake.  From the cheese counter, I tasted  the Warwickshire truckle, Shropshire blue and Black bombe. There was a meat section which carried the Ragley Estate Meats, from the animals that were reared on the adjoining Ragley estate. It was raining when we left the farm shop. Gracias Andy and Kay.

This week was Prophet Muhammad’s birthday, commemorated by Muslims during the month of Rabi’al-awwal, the third month of the Islamic calendar. Called Maulud Nabi, it was marked by religious lectures and readings of the Quran. The Prophet was born in the year 570 in the Gregorian calendar and died in 632 after uniting Arabia into a single Muslim unity. As Muslims all over the world celebrate this auspicious birthday, I pray that peace was showered upon him and upon all of us too. Amin.