We quietly slipped into November with misty magical mornings and beautiful low sunrises and sunsets. It had been unseasonably mild for this time of year. This warm weather was not right because nature needed a burst of proper cold to carry on to next year. And the thought of all the germs rubbing their hands with glee at the perfect breeding conditions of warmth, moist temperatures and rotting things made me sick.
Fog in November, trees have no heads,
Streams only sound, walls suddenly stop
Half-way up hills, the ghost of a man spreads
Dung on dead fields for next year's crop.
I cannot see my hand before my face,
My body does not seem to be my own,
The world becomes a far-off, foreign place,
People are strangers, houses silent, unknown.~Leonard Clark, Fog in November~
As the days of November unfolded, fallen leaves spread a cloth of gold and amber on the ground. The wind had exchanged its soft and musical tones for a mournful sound, marking the rythym of atumn’s impending end while howling down the alleyways. Each month arrived with its own special kind of rain. In November, the rain was steady and fearfully grey with sheets of leaden steel dropping from pewter skies.
Although it was grey, miserable and wet, the skies were continuously brightly lit alongside spontaneous very loud bangs. It was Guy Fawkes week, an event accompanied by firework displays, the lighting of bonfires and the ceremonial effigy-burning of one Guy Fawkes. This originated from events which took place in 1605 and was a conspiracy known as “The Gunpowder Plot’ intended to take place on November 5th, the day set for the opening of Parliament. The main objective was to blow up the Parliament along with the ruling monarch, King James 1. It was hoped that such a disaster would initiate an uprising of English Catholics, who were distressed by the increased severity of penal laws against the practice of their religion.
Guy (Guido) Fawkes, who was in the cellar of the House of Lords with the 36 barrels of gunpowder when the authorities stormed it in the early hours of November 5th, was caught, tortured and executed. Also known as ‘Firework Night’ and ‘Bonfire Night’, November 5th was designated by King James 1 (via an Act of Parliament) as a day of thanksgiving for ‘the joyful day of deliverance.’ This Act remained in force until 1859. On the very night of the thwarted plot, it was said that the Londoners celebrated the defeat by lighting fires and engaging in street festivities.
We didn’t launched any fireworks, waved sparklers or burnt bornfires but we still took hundreds of photographs. We enjoyed our neighbours fireworks offerings and some were very spectacular. Some shoot straight up before exploding, others whirled in spirals, some shattered into thousands of sparks, others tumbled like waterfalls or floated in glittering shower. At times, we just don’t know where to point our cameras. There were whishes, whirrs, booms, whizzes, zooms and bangs everywhere. Tons of smoke drifting and the smell of sulphur was quite overpowering. I couldn’t helped oohing and aaahing at such extravagance. The next morning, I came across piles of spent fireworks in the garden.
When we were driving on the M40 to Oxford, to meet one of my best friend from Malaysia, we were dazzled by the twinkling and shimmering fireworks that had been launched into the skies. It made the trip very magical. JJ was in Oxford for a week for work purposes and it was lovely to meet her in my adopted country. We picked her from the very quaint Bath Hotel for dinner. Unfortunately the KFC only does takeaway and we couldn’t find any parking space on Cowley Road to have dinner in a restaurant. In the end, we bought a takeaway and had a picnic in the car. It was hillarious but we’d a wonderful time catching up.
Remember, remember the fifth of November,
Gunpowder treason and plot.
We see no reason
Why gunpowder treason
Should ever be forgot!
Guy Fawkes, guy, t'was his intent
To blow up king and parliament.
Three score barrels were laid below
To prove old England's overthrow.
By god's mercy he was catch'd
With a darkened lantern and burning match.
So, holler boys, holler boys, Let the bells ring.
Holler boys, holler boys, God save the king.
And what shall we do with him?
Burn him!~The Fifth of November~
I took a day off from work for an early trip to Donna Nook Nature Reserve, one of our favourite places in the world. We left the casa at 9 am on a wet, miserable, grey morning. On the way, we found out that the Wigston Road was closed due to roadworks and followed the redirected routes which wasn’t that bad. Traffic on the main route was surprisingly heavy and slow with the huge lorries trying to overtake each other.
We were quite surprised to see the car-park nearly full and it wasn’t even the weekend. It had been raining here and the roads were very muddy. It started to rain again and I put on my waterproofs and we made our way towards the sanctuary. As we walked, a large flock of Brent Geese flew off in long V-shaped formations called ‘skeins’. They were only found here in the winter.
We walked along the chestnut-paling fence that ran the entire length of the beach. It was still early in the season. We spotted a few pups here and there among the sand-dunes and reed-beds. We checked out the board and there were 234 bulls ; 288 cows and 120 pups. Still a long way to go.
The males were rolling, snoozing, dozing, slumbering and scratching in the mudbanks and sand-dunes. They were bidding time, waiting for the pups to be weaned and the females to be in season and ready to mate. For the time being, the males were quite content to be together. It was very peaceful at the moment.
Oh! Hush thee, my baby, the night is behind us,
And black are the waters that sparkled so green.
The moon, o’er the combers, looks downward to find us,
At rest in the hollows that rustle between.
Where billow meets billow, then soft be thy pillow,
Oh weary wee flipperling, curl at thy ease!
The storm shall not wake thee, nor shark overtake thee,
Asleep in the arms of the slow swinging seas!
~Seal lullaby by Rudyard Kipling~
Babe spotted an odd looking duck among the Shelducks that were feeding along the mudbanks. We showed a photograph to a RSPB ‘expert’ and she told us that it was a Ruddy Shelduck. But when Babe explained that it looked more like a hybrid Egyptian Goose and Shelduck, she was having none of it!!! She couldn’t explain to us why she thought it was a Ruddy Shelduck.
We walked back to the car where we were distracted by flocks of starlings and Goldfinches feeding on the sea-buckthorn berries that dotted the sand dunes. Suddenly in the distance, we spotted a raptor flying furiously after a Goldfinch. The poor bird was flying high trying to avoid the talons and thankfully managed to escape. The pursuer than flew and landed on one of the posts. We crept closer and discovered that it was a Merlin, our first sighting here.
We went back to the car to have something to eat. The car-park was already full and late comers parked in the overflow car-park, a near-by field which belonged to a farmer. He charged £2 per car but he does provide toilet facilities. Suddenly the heavens opened while we were tucking into our cheese and onion pasties. At first we planned to check the seals again but the rain put us off. So we decided to head home and visit again at the height of the pupping season.
We also made a trip to Draycote Waters and was quite surprised to see it quite empty except for a few hardy yachtsmen honing their sport. It was a miserable day to be out and about. We walked along the walls keeping an eye on the lake. Dozens of Great Crested Grebes in their winter colours were enjoying a leisurely swim.
On the rocks, Pied wagtails were flitting and dashing between the rocks, uttering their high-pitched ‘chessick’ songs, on the hunt for insects. They were constantly in motion, from their jerky walks to their constantly wagging tails. Meadow pipits glide down to the rocks making their presence felt with their ‘tseep’ calls and tinkling songs. I wanted to watch the sunset but there was nearly 2 hours to go. We headed home because we don’t want to be frozen while waiting.
At work, HR and I attended a charity ‘Lunch for Education of Syrian children’ at the Chaplaincy supported by the Human Concern International. The fund-raising event aimed to bring to light the realities of education of Syrian children under war and seeked to actively meet their urgent needs of books, stationeries, winter clothes and heating. The event included enlightening talks, live music, theatre performances and amazing food.
Unfortunately, by the time we arrived, the main meal was completely sold out. But we still enjoyed the different varieties of finger foods from around the world. There were spring rolls, antipasti skewers, mini crostinis etc. It was a very good turnout and we stayed for the live music and talks while tucking into our meals. We also purchased a few raffle tickets for meals at different outlets on campus. We were chuffed when we won a few prizes. HR won tea for 2 at Curiostea while I won 2 prizes. Woo…hoo. One was dinner for 2 at Varsity and the other was for a performance at Copper Room. The later, I turned it down and asked the organisers to give it to someone else.
I was watching Children in Need wearing my Pudsey ears when Babe came down and informed me that there was a terrorist attack in Paris. I immediately switched to BBC News 24 and scrolled through Twitter. At 21.20 pm, 3 suicide bombers struck near the Stade deFrance in Saint Denis, followed by suicide bombings and mass shootings at cafes, restaurants and the Batacian theatre.
The attackers killed 130 people, included 89 at the theatre, where they took hostages before engaging in a stand-off with the police. 360 people were wounded here and 7 attackers were killed. The Islamic State of Iraq and the Levant (ISIL) claimed responsibility for the attacks, in retaliation for the French airstrikes on ISIL targets in Syria and Iraq.
I was mad for people using my religion as an excuse to kill to go to heaven. Blowing oneself up is suicide, which is forbidden in Islam so how on earth could you go to heaven.
‘And do not kill yourselves’
[An-Nisa 4:29].
And the Prophet (PBUH) said
‘…Whoever kills himself with a piece of iron will have that iron in his hand, thrusting it into his belly in the Fire of Hell for ever and ever. ‘
Narrated by al-Bukhari, 5442; Muslim. 109.
Terrorism has no place in Islam.
‘Whoever kills an innocent human being, it shall be as if he has killed all mankind, and whoever saves the lives of one, it shall be as if he had saved the life of mankind..’
~Quran 5;32~
My thoughts and prayers were with the victims and their families.
We ended the week by checking out the Starling murmurations at Brandon Marsh. Babe had seen it so many times and I don’t want to miss this amazing spectacle. We walked straight to Carlton Hide because we wanted to get the best seat in the house. We were about an hour early and I amused myself by taking photographs of the reedbeds glowing brightly in the bright winter sun.
The volunteers were busy clearing off the algae that had nearly covered the lake in front of us. The lake had been drained and piles of harvested algae were dumped onto the island. It was going to be a losing battle because birds flew in and carry the algae with them. But at least, they were doing something about it.
As usual, by half 3, the hundreds of Gulls departed slowly to roost at Draycote Waters. The sun hadn’t set yet but hundreds of Starlings began to appear and then flew off again. Another few minutes passed before a slightly larger flock swooped in and then flew off agin towards the back of the hide. As always with nature, nothing was ever guaranteed and with the Starling population continuing to suffer, you began to wonder if this year might be the last.
But for the time being, the doom-mongering was misplaced as hundreds more flew in and joined the melee overhead. With each change in direction, another strange shape formed resembling something familiar whether be a bird, shark or cloud. All coincidence of cause but I would like to think that there was some kind of plan being played out among the chaos.
Before long, a steadyflow of birds streamed in to join the swirling mass of natural wonder. They were in the air for about 20 minutes as there were no raptors to pursue them. Slowly, as the sun was sinking rapidly towards the horizon, the birds began to drop into the reedbeds until there was …nothing. Stragglers were flying in and flew straight into the reed-beds. It had been an amazing display and I couldn’t wait to witness more.
Murmuration the bird watchers shout Time to look up and scan aboutWhat you will see will amaze your eyes Looks like a moving cloud of unbelievable size
It’s Starlings flying as one as in a hunt Open your eyes but mouth firmly shut They aren’t too careful where they let things go But the rhythmical flock will put on a great show
The opening of the Starling Royal Ballet Is about to show its face upon sky’s stage Binoculars ready for the spectacle of a lifetime You can oooh and ahhh at this special showtime
They fly towards you all grouped together Dividing just in time in unison as one feather They swirl and sway like dancers on ice They pirouette like lovers entwined, to entice
Why does this bird who is so graceful a delight Attack other birds, continually wanting to fight Their plumage is shiny but its mind is so mean Fight to grow up, as a fighting machine.
As you watch them you can forgive them most things Wonder why they fly like this, but they can’t sing Their voices aren’t good, so they can’t steal the show They need a poor blue tit, to sing for them now
I can watch this happening time after time They never disappoint me, never just in a line The mass of birds will stay fixed in my head Amazed isn’t the right word use flabbergasted instead
Murmuration by Seren Roberts
We walked out quickly before darkness enveloped the reserve. We’d forgotten to bring our headlights and we don’t want to be stumbling in the dark. A Tawny owl ‘toot hoooot’ us goodnight as we walked back to the car. Bonn nuit and sleep tight my friends. It was freezing when we arrived at the casa. We put the heating on and I reheat my huge pot of chunky Minestrone soup. We’d it for dinner with shop-bought garlic bread. A sinple, hearthy meal to end a wonderful day.
In a food processor, whizz the carrots, onion and celery into small pieces. Heat the oil in a pan, add the processed vegetables, garlic and potatoes, then cook over a high heat for 5 mins until softened.
Heat oil. Add garlic and onions until slightly softened. Add peppers and chopped tomatoes and cook for 2 minutes, stirring. Stir in stock and celery. Add cabbage, beans and peas. Season. Bring to the boil, lower heat and simmer for 30 minutes.
Add vermicelli. Cook for a further 15 minutes. Season to taste, garnish with parmessan and serve with crusty bread. Bon appetit.
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