Early Autumn in quiet contemplation

There is little better than being sat in a hide, in quiet contemplation of life, in early autumn.

The, still warm, rays from the sun, casting golden hue across the lightly rippling water; A gentle breeze creating a temperate climate; The sounds of quacking Gadwall, lightly whistling wigeon, and frantic coots, echoing from the lake. Overhead the mewing of a distant Buzzard cuts through the air, as she slowly circles every higher on invisible thermals.

Moments like this remind one that life is good. For all the chaos of 2020, for all the disgraces of humanity, for all the uncertainty of Covid 19. A moment of quiet contemplation in amongst the sights, smells, and sounds of nature are a, much needed, respite. A reset to the fragile mind.

Linford Lakes Nature Reserve

Today, I needed this. I needed to forget the stresses of life; Remove thoughts of work, and worries of money; The burden of back pain; The concern for family members struggling with isolation, unemployment, ill health… I needed a quiet moment of reflection. A moment to focus on nothing but the sounds around me, the view in front of me, and the nature abundance of autumn.

I found my desired solace at Linford Lakes nature reserve, the only place in Milton Keynes I found I can truly forget “life”. There are usually few people, and those there share a passion, there are no dogs allowed, and rarely will kids be seen, in truth there is often silence.

In quiet contemplation

Sat in “Warbler Hide” I watched as a young, still fluffy, moorhen clambered, clumsily, through the recently cut reeds. The watchful parents calling from the mirror like water of the margins. All around her large Dragonflies (Migrant Hawker mainly) buzzed the air. In the deeper water Gadwall squabbled with one another, and Coot chased any interloping presence from edge to edge.

Watching the Moorhen, and taking in all the action around the lake left me thinking. This is why I used to write. An in built need to share these peaceful, unique, moments with someone. I wanted others to know that even in the depths of life, there can be moments, magical moments, that take us away. They don’t have to be spectacular. The joy of seeing that moorhen was enough to lift my spirits, and the inspiration I needed to write this post.

Much of nothing really

The rest of my day continued much in this same vein. Not with amazing moments, or wonderous discoveries. But with moments of not much.

A Migrant Hawker, perfectly still, hanging from the heavily fruit laden stems of an Elder bush.

The suddenly appearing head of a warbler, as it worked it’s way through the trees, surprising itself with suddenly finding open space rather than continued foliage.

A Little Grebe dancing across the water as he takes to flight.

The song of a distant Cettis Warbler.