Friday was a pretty good day up here in northern England. Recently, I have been kneeling in the upstairs bathroom dealing with plaster and tiles. It was nice to be able to give myself time off.
With my trusty transportation vehicle, Clint, there is no need to mess about setting a satnav. I just have to tell him where we are going and his engine roars obediently into action. And so it was this morning.
Soon we were out in the north Nottinghamshire countryside, heading down to Elkesley on the A1. There were two Geograph squares I needed to bag there with my camera. This involved a forty minute walk on which I spotted the old car wreck shown in the top picture.
Then, after waking Clint up from his slumbers we headed to the sprawling "village" of Morton which is really a small agricultural region dotted with farms and cottages that all have the word "Morton" in their names: Morton Hall, Little Morton, Morton Grange, Morton Hill Cottage etc.. There's probably a historical reason for this but I am not inclined to research it right now.
I undertook four separate little walks in all and once I found myself crouching behind a hawthorn hedge as a couple of farm vehicles passed by on a private access road. Fortunately, they did not see me as I was wearing camouflage make-up like a marine. Bagging Geograph squares can be a risky business you know.
Over the years, I have taken many pictures of lone trees shaped by the countless seasons they have endured. There's something very characterful about such trees and it is easy to see them as in some way metaphors for human existence. Aren't trees meant to grow in the company of other trees?