In real life, these lizards are exquisite in detail. They are quite small, about a handslength from nose to tailtip and, to the naked eye, their nostril appears as a barely visible pinprick.

An extremely clear day, time to get up on to the Mendips and shoot some more landscapes.

Although it had been one of those crystal-clear April days, some weather blew up just as the sun started to drop down to the west. We waited for about an hour while large rainclouds drifted over our heads. We could see an approaching gap in the cloud, so we got set up. However, instead of a substantial gap there were these occasional shafts of sunlight.

Last spring I spotted this field of dandelions just over to the east. At that time, I was a week or two late for this shot, so we slotted it into the schedule.

The house is marked "court house" in ye-olde-style lettering on the OS map but we've decided to call it "Kilve Manor" out of sheer bloody-minded ignorance.

The view from Deer Leap on an exceptionally clear day stretches beyond the county boundary. Past the Tor lies the town of Yeovil, concealed in a convenient dip. Past Yeovil is Devon. Just past the other side of the farthest hills on the skyline is the Devon coast, about 50 miles away. It's an absorbing panorama when viewed through a pair of 10x50s.

Dramatic sky and a gnarled pine - a bit nippy up here too...

Our Minolta digital has a macro facility which can, on occasion, produce some delightful images of life in the small. This morning we were on the foot of Mendips where the summer profusion of wildflowers is getting under way. At the moment, speedwell is speckling the slopes with a variety of delicate shades of blue, complemented by the rich yellow of the birdsfoot trefoil.

Although the bluebells down at sea level have mostly finished flowering, conditions on the top of the Mendips are significantly cooler, so they have lasted longer.

Charterhouse again. There's always something to attract our interest. Our original intention was to try and re-photograph the black lizard but he wasn't in - he was possibly out for lunch, there is a population of adders up there. Instead, we came back with these:

Shooting down the gorge from Pinnacles at Cheddar presents a bit of a challenge, in that much of the gorge is in deep shadow. About the only way you can avoid this is to get up there very early in the morning around midsummer, when the sun rises almost directly behind the gorge, casting light into its deepest recesses. It's a stunning view and watching the dawn from here is something that I can highly(!) recommend.

A fresh sea breeze, a beautiful June day and a host of wildflowers on Berrow dunes.

A late trip to Charterhouse on a breezy but sunny Sunday afternoon. One Bee Orchid plus three extremely cute, very young, very small Wood Mice exploring a brand-new world. We named this one "Junior", by far the most adventurous - and innocent enough to just curl up and fall asleep in the grass when tired.

The slopes of Shute Shelve Hill (overlooking the town) are a nature reserve. At the moment, they abound with wildflowers: yellow-wort, rock rose, ground ivy, woundwort, thyme, marjoram, dropwort, birdsfoot trefoil, speedwell, sweet briar and pyramidal orchids. This wildflower variety supports a lot of butterflies, at the moment there are newly-hatched Marbled Whites absolutely everywhere. These soldier beetles (Rhagonycha fulva) firmly intend to be everywhere.

An unseasonably cool night often produces a low-lying mist in the early morning, soon burned away by the summer sun. Best catch it early (06:00).

Today was the first really sunny day for ages and we were curious what Charterhouse had to offer. Mostly butterflies and rabbits. The Reserve signage had mentioned Pearl-bordered fritillary butterflies and today they were in abundance. I got lucky when one landed on a nearby thistle and stayed to feed.

Been a bit dull recently - a typical English summer. However, the weather has just picked up so we took a stroll on the foot of Shute Shelve hill, just above the town. Marjoram and ragwort in profusion, Small and Large Heath butteflies, the odd Ringlet and a couple of Commas, one of which was quite obliging.

In the nearby car park overlooking the Cheddar valley there is a medium-sized ash tree with some excellent lichens.

Charterhouse again, on the hottest day of the year so far. Butterflies everywhere, including this Dark Green Fritillary feeding on a Black Knapweed flower (dark green? - apparently the underwing can look dark green when the light catches it just right). Up to now, all the lizards we have seen were on the ground but this one was quite comfortable clambering around in the heather. These lizards are so small and light that they don't even bend the branches of the heather.

Lots of harebells out, unlike the knapweed they don't seem to offer much nutrition to the butterflies - but do provide a convenient resting spot, as this small skipper demonstrates - lovely colour combination. I didn't spot this ladybird's companion until viewing the image on the computer.

Grabbed with the digital when travelling on the M5 up to Bristol. We sometimes see the outline of these huge car-transporters when they are moored far out in the Channel, waiting for the tide. The houses in the foreground give some idea of the scale. Also, it looks like we'd get a decent panoramic view of both Severn bridges from higher up the hillside.

We went for a trip on the West Somerset (steam) Railway with Paula, Aled and Kelly, our guests for a few days. We've been before, so we knew to get on at Crowcombe Heathfield, one stop on from the start. On a fine summers day it could almost be Adlestrop.

On the way back, we stopped on top of the Quantocks for a look round. The weather was starting to change, it had been fine all day but clouds were now blowing up from the south. You get some big skies up there.

After we got home the sky cleared, leaving these wierd flat-topped towering clouds to the south.

We are exhibiting in a group photographic exhibition which has been organised for the Somerset Showcase day in Axbridge and will continue through September on Friday evenings and weekends. Ngaio and I are sharing St Jude's Studio. Most of the later half of August has been taken up with preparing for this.

A warm day in early September. Not yet autumn but summer is definitely winding down. These from the digital but actually we went to photograph the beeches (see Ngaio's posting for today).

Giving an impression of the landscape here requires careful composition. We've tried several times but have never been satisfied with the result. These are the best so far, at least they make some attempt to convey the contrast between the softness of the grass blanket and the bare, broken rock.

Looking up and to the right from our usual parking spot at Charterhouse, we have often noticed a fine stand of beech trees. Closer inspection reveals a magnificent grove of mature trees whose broad and twisting branches spread out fusing together in order to support their great weight, creating a spacious environment beneath suffused with dappled light that shifts about as the canopy moves in the near constant breeze.

Lensless photography on Weston Pier using a zone plate. A zone plate is a pinhole at the centre of several minute concentric rings. For a more detailed description, see the Zone plate page on Guillermo Penate's website.

There's an interesting diffraction flare on the "Weighing machine" image - at full resolution it appears as a series of concentric spectral rings. Obvious really.

We had been waiting for the sunset to come round behind the Isle of Frogs. In midsummer it sets north of Crook Peak, in midwinter it sets over the Quantocks in the south. We were waiting for the sunset to swing round behind the Isle of Frogs but we completely missed it this year, the setting sun has already moved round to Exmoor. Still, this rather dramatic October sunset was worth grabbing - that's clearly the outline of Dunkery Hill, not a bad effort for a digital camera.

Masters of aerial combat in the insect world. The engineering is absolutely superb, just look at all that complex surface.

We've been trying out a Linhof 6x12cm panoramic camera which Barry has kindly lent us. The view from Ebbor Stones was a natural choice for a panoramic shot. The light was a bit so-so and we think the monochrome version captures the sweep of the landscape better than the colour version.

Finally the weather has taken a turn for the better and we find ourselves enjoying some very welcome winter sunshine on the slopes of Shute Shelve hill. Looking west towards Isle of Frogs (Brent Knoll) and closer in, Cross Plain, we noted that we aren't the only people out enjoying a glorious day atop the Mendips.

At this time of year the masses of gorse bushes are putting on a stunning display of new flowers, giving some welcome colour to the hills. (Gorse bears some flowers year round, giving rise to the old country saying "When gorse is out of blossom, kissing's out of fashion"!)

Elsewhere on the hill, there is other colour to be enjoyed, but you have to look a little harder to find it...

A few examples of the mosses and lichens that we've come across on recent outings. Their vibrant colour, varying textures and forms make them quite an appealing subject for the macro lens.

All too often, the sky in winter is overcast and the light is dull. Sometimes, the sun breaks through and then the landscape is transformed. These were taken around 16:30 in the afternoon on a short stroll down to the river. On the way back, a huge flock of starlings which flew silently over our heads --- we failed to get a photograph, we were too busy rubbernecking. It was rather impressive --- a dense, swooping flock of several thousand birds and barely a whisper of sound in the still air.

Not the band but the town. We took a quick trip out to Clevedon to take some shots of its recently-restored Victorian pier using a lensless technique (those shots will probably be posted later) and then on to Portishead for fish'n'chips -- the chippie there serves proper mushy peas. Our tradition is to go down to the seafront to scoff. On this occasion, there was a rather tranquil sunset.

It's a bit early in the year for the full glory of the Shute Shelve slopes but you have to keep a close eye on things or else you can miss it. Right now the gorse is going for it, there are Hairy Violets on the slopes and the Gound Ivy is making a strong showing. We spotted this odd eggcup-shaped fungus and couldn't resist taking a few macro shots to pore over back at the ranch.

Axbridge town (pop. ~2000) sits at the foot of Shute Shelve Hill, a National Trust nature reserve. Because it is just a few minutes walk up the road, we visit it quite often, a path winds its way along the foot of the hill, at the end of which one can cut back through the allotments, through Upper Axbridge and then down into the town square.

Because so much of this diary refers to "Shute Shelve slopes", we thought it might be an idea to illustrate it. The first image shows the slope of Shute Shelve Hill next to the entrance . We've seen goldcrests in the bushes here and that splodge in the sunlight just beyond the edge of the shadow is one of the many rabbits which live in a warren under the trees to the left. The slope is dotted with violets at this time of year and further up there are masses of gorse with dense yellow blooms.

The flat area in the immediate foreground is covered with Ground Ivy which sounds rather dull but the name is a bit misleading, the flowers very delicate and are more like individual orchid flowers, there's an image in the wildflower section of our image gallery. The second photo shows the path which runs along the foot of the hill, it is covered with yellow rock roses and birdsfoot trefoil in late spring. The view encompasses Axbridge town and in the distance, Glastonbury Tor. The bird in the sky is a buzzard, a common sight on the Mendips.

The last two images show the view out to the east over Axbridge and towards the Tor, taken slightly later the same day as the light started to take on its characteristic pink sunset hue.

We're getting out a bit more as the weather (and the light) improves --- gradually. The landscape here is relatively flat, bordered by hills on the north and south horizons but mostly open to the east and west. We think it's this feature that throws the cloud masses into such prominence. We often get huge cloud formations overhead, looks like one of George Lucas' vast starships hanging above us.

The first image tries to give a flavour of this, looking out to the south west, over the Isle of Frogs (these days known more mundanely as Brent Knoll), over Bridgwater, across the bay to Minehead and the Exmoor hills beyond. That's about 30-40 miles and getting on towards the southern edge of the county.

The second image carries some of this detail. It's a stretch for the digital camera but that's a creditable effort - Exmoor's Dunkery Hill is just discernible to the left, on the horizon. Turning east, we can see that Glastonbury and the Tor are enjoying the sunshine which everyone else seems to have while we're stuck under this huge cloud, boo.

Things are definitely getting started. The other day, on one of those very bright and clear April days, we headed off to the other side of Axbridge (between the hill and the reservoir, behind the sailing club) to check on a woodpecker who has been laughing at my boat repair skills. The track of the old "Strawberry Line" railway which used to run between Axbridge and Cheddar (behind the sailing club) is now a cycle path. It is bordered by numerous families of rabbits, most of which seem to have become quite relaxed about passers-by.

A short climb up Shute Shelve Hill gives a lovely panoramic view. Just plonk your bum down on a patch of wild thyme, dig out the binos and take some time out to browse the landscape in detail. Shame you can't be here, but if you are up for a 650Kb download, the full-size panoramic image is huge (9858 x 1891 pixels) and gives a somewhat similar effect. Familiar features are annotated, as are some general features.

Although it sounds like a firm of builders, "GB Gruffy" is actually a nature reserve on top of the Mendips. It has a pothole and a badger sett (recently filmed by the BBC with Bill Oddie). "Gruffy ground" is a local term for the old opencast mines. They were last worked in Victorian times and have by now been reclaimed by nature.

In spring, the fields are just a mass of wildflowers and we thought we'd better check up on this year's progress. There are drifts of violets and celandines with wood anemones, wood sorrel and in the marshy bits, Lady's Smock. Here is a rather fine natural arrangement of Wood Sorrel and a closeup.

Over the course of 30 minutes or so, the sun slipped down to the west, finally appearing below the edge of the overhead cloud formation. The light was continually changing, creating some beautifully subtle colours.

Off to GB Gruffy for to meet up with Steve and the girls for an impromptu picnic amidst the wildflowers. We got there early so Graham could run off a couple of rolls of film through the 6x9 fitted with a properly-shuttered zone plate whilst Ngaio used the digital.

We'd finished by the time Steve and the girls arrived, so we all had a tour round, counting the number of different wildflower species we could spot. The total came to 26. Bluebells and stitchwort were the most numerous but there were delightful swathes of cowslips, clumps of speedwell on top of ant nest hillocks and the occasional drift of violets, all under a beautiful blue open sky. Magic.

Overcast to start with, by mid-afternoon the weather had cleared and it was a nice sunny afternoon, so off to Shute Shelve to catch up with the season. The slopes are studded with blue speedwell and yellow rock rose, very attractive. We've hung up a bird seed feeder near the kitchen window and are starting to get some good images, this is a young greenfinch.<

There was a good breeze coming in from the west and it was keeping the blues close to the ground. I managed to get some detailed shots despite the wind. We don't yet know what species the caterpillars are.

We found some Heath Speedwell, a species we hadn't yet photographed and this is Ngaio's farewell portrait of Terry the Tadpole, the sole survivor of this year's frogspawn in the garden pond.

We're told that keeping the bird feeders going during the spring and early summer is particularly appreciated by the seed-eaters. The feeders are certainly popular with the greenfinches and chaffinches.

On the way to Charterhouse we called in to GB Gruffy, to find that the orchids are in full bloom. Must be nearly a thousand plants there, just a few yards from the road. We were surprised to find them growing even in the marshy area. There's no water on the ground, just very damp conditions: we had wet knees and elbows after taking these images, even though the last rain was a couple of days ago.

It's evidently marshy enough to suit the Marsh Fritillary, several newly-hatched individuals of which were letting their wings inflate in the bright sunshine. We didn't manage capture an image of one on an orchid but we did spend a few minutes chasing after a Chimney Sweeper moth whose wings are a described as a sooty black when newly-hatched with just a touch of white edging at the wingtip, the one we saw seemed more of a vary dark indigo, almost as pretty as a common blue and about the same size. Tricky job, trying to follow it around without trampling the orchids but we managed.

The Axbridge bypass runs just below the foot of Shute Shelve hill. To get to Shute Shelve hill one has to cross the bypass and walk along the verge for about 100m. Whilst on an evening amble with Steve, we spotted two groups of bee orchids on the high grassy bank bordering the verge of the bypass. Somerset County Council has established the Somerset Environmental Records Centre which encourages the general public to report any observations of rare or endangered species of animals, plants and insects --- so we returned the following day to make these visual records of the orchids and emailed them to the SERC.

Off to Charterhouse, not to take photos but to have a picnic and listen to the skylarks. Skylark numbers are declining in the UK but we know that there are several nesting pairs up at the very far edge of Charterhouse. It was a glorious day and the skylarks were singing their hearts out. This nearby spoil heap has been colonised by a very striking colony of biting stonecrop. The view is across the "gruffy ground" section of Charterhouse and shows how the old opencast mine workings have returned to nature. A hundred and fifty years ago, this would have been an industrial site, now it is busy with wildflowers and animals.

The yellow flowers growing in the grass in the foreground are birdsfoot trefoil and yellow rock rose. A detailed photo of that area would also reveal the pinks and purples of thyme and marjoram and the blues of speedwell and milkwort. Between the rabbit warren in the gruffy ground and the rabbit warren in the far ridge is a level area of long grass where the skylarks sing and the rabbits play. Sounds too idyllic to be true but happily that's not the case.

In the interests of getting some pleasant exercise, we went bicycling along the coast road from Berrow to Brean Down. The river Axe enters the Bristol Channel at Brean, having meandered its way across the levels. The view south from Brean takes in the Isle of Frogs (Brent Knoll) and, on the distant horizon, Glastonbury Tor. The second image is a telephoto zoom of the boats just visible in the first image.

Six o'clock in the morning, a little after sunrise and we are on the slopes of Shute Shelve hill enjoying a beautiful misty morning. The sounds of people starting their day drift up from Axbridge, whilst all around us the birds are singing.

A day trip to Exmoor affords us a wonderful view of Porlock Bay. Later in the day we made our way to Tarr Steps, believed to be the oldest mediaeval clapper bridge in England.

Axbridge is transformed by a fairly recent addition to its calendar - the Somerset Showcase. This very enjoyable celebration of all things "Somerset", from the locally produced foods available from the farmers markets to arts, crafts and music, sees the Square cleared of traffic and filled with people, stalls and entertainers.

The church tower was opened to the public, rewarding those who ventured up the narrow winding staircase with stunning views across the town.

From the kitchen window, we have had a few fleeting glimpses a Sparrow Hawk (an adult female) which hunts in our garden. Sometimes he will land on the fence for a few moments and then dive into the honeysuckle were the small birds are taking cover. From time to time we have found evidence of a successful hunt in the form of rather sad piles of Sparrow feathers on the "lawn".

This encounter was somewhat longer, the hawk has taken a Collared Dove. Quite an impressive feat given that size for size they were fairly evenly matched. (From our book of birds: the average size of a Collared Dove is 29-32cm and the average size of a Sparrow Hawk 28-38cm.)

Such a large catch meant that the hawk spent a good hour under the Hebe, stripping feathers and eating as much of the dove as he could manage - about two thirds, before finally hefting himself and the remains of his meal away.

Overhanging a garden wall an array of ivies and creepers puts on exotic display of early Autunm colour, whilst along the disused railway line, Bramble and Hawthorne berries and Old Man's Beard present an alternative palette for this colouful season.

A walk along the old Railway line, with a view to getting a photograph of some Nettle-leaved Bellflowers that we saw the other day proved to be a delight. Along the way we also saw Common Toadflax, Black Nightshade, splendid displays of Old Man's Beard (below) and Spindleberries.

We then took the bottom trail through Kings Wood. Ash, Oak and Beech trees seem make up the main body of the wood, we were particularly taken by the Ash below, which would seem to have come through an extraordinary battle with gravity!

Sometimes we wonder whether we should photograph "yet another sunset" - but when we are presented with such breathtaking beauty it really is too much to resist!

And some more ...

On a very foggy Sunday afternoon we set off for a walk without much hope of seeing very much. A robin perched on a gate a few feet away was difficult to make out. A very somber and subdued atmosphere pervaded. On climbing up to the old railway line, there was a definite suggestion of sunshine above, giving us a hint that it would be worth heading for higher ground,. We went on up through King's Wood to Cross Plain and as we climbed, the fog thinned to mist and the woodland became bathed in an ethereal light.

Emerging from the woods we walked out along Cross Plain and were greeted by a magnificent scene, blue skies above a sea of mists stretching from horizon to horizon. The mist was gently swirling and washing like waves along the hillsides. We felt as though we were on top on the world. And there we stayed until the light began to fade. Walking home back into the mists and then again into thick fog I wondered how many people must have spent their day in the fog thinking "What a dull day".

This viewpoint is found in St. Mary's churchyard, Kirkby Lonsdale. It overlooks the Vale of Lune, Ingleborough, Casterton Fell and Barbon Fell. It is known as Ruskin's View because after seeing J. M. Turner's painting of the scene. Ruskin described it as, "... one of the loveliest scenes in England ..."

Westhay Nature reserve is always worth visiting. Former peat workings have been tranformed into a large expanse of open water and reed beds, providing a haven for a wonderful variety of wildlife. During the winter months Westhay plays host to one of nature's most spectaular gatherings. Huge numbers of starlings come to roost amongst the reed beds every night, forming enormous flocks. Estimated figures are between 6 - 10 million birds.

Over the course of the winter months we have been enjoying frequent sightings of treecreepers. These tiny and busy little birds seem never to come to rest, making them a challenging photographic subject. The best result being rather blurred and distant..

However, one rather dark afternoon we were most privileged to have an intimate encounter with this delightful bird who was no more than a few feet away and paused for a few moments allowing a rather more detailed shot. Not perfect due to the very low light conditions, but quite satisfying nonetheless.

The open landscape to the southwest presents some striking winter sunsets. Our daily walks have given us the opportunity to record the apparent path of the sun as it moves through the ecliptic. These images to the SSW are just a few weeks apart, yet the sunset has shifted appreciably to the west.

A light scattering of snow in the garden greets us on this cold March morning, quite a novelty for Axbridge! By mid afternoon the sun is shining and we are struck by the lovely contrast of the fresh spring green of the catkins against the clear blue sky.

On a glorious day with wonderful light we enjoyed the dappled shade on ferns along the railway embankment and cloud shadows drifting across the rolling farmland.

The next day's weather produced low cloud and rain. We spotted a rather damp Common Kestrel hunting along the edge of a field, who from time to time perched on a near by branch.

Further along we stopped at the same field as rain swept across the land and the clouds swathe the hilltops.

The continuing cold snap prompted a number of the local Jackdaws to tests their agility, whilst it was obviously a bit of a struggle, the birds did succeed in feeding - we put out some loose ground nuts out for them later in the day.

Later in the day we spotted this "fan" of sheep - I suggested the title "Ladies who Lunch" ; )

As sure a sign that Spring is here is the bleating of lambs in the fields. The thing that amazes me about lambs is that when they are young (and vulnerable) they are so endearing to humans, we want to look after them ... and then they turn into sheep!

Another newbie is the "crias", or as I like to refer to it, the llama-lamb, seen here with its sibling, who is being most attentive and protective towards the lamb.

As with the catkins earlier this month, we are again struck by the contrast of Pussy Willow against a clear blue sky. Further along the path, the budding leaves on the trees imitate Autumn with a fine display of subtle colours.

The pair of evergreen trees in the centre of the second image are probably Scots pine.

Seed-feeding birds, such as Chaffinch and Greenfinch are returning to the garden en masse, their wild food sources diminish through the spring and summer months, which is why we are reminded to feed the birds throughout the year.

Elsewhere a fine bumble-bee collects nectar.

A mile or so down the track of the old Strawberry line, Shute Shelve tunnel runs for 100 yards or so under King John's wood. This ancient wood is economically and lightly managed so the floor is not a manicured swathe of picturesque wildflowers but has an unphotogenic litter of twigs and branches for better support of the native ecology.

In just a few days the woodland floor has turned green with wild garlic shoots and is now dotted all over with wildflowers: primroses, celandines, wood anemones and violets. Here and there, the occasional grouping makes a striking display.

We're on a personal mission to improve our tree identification skills. Last summer we learned to identify ash trees by their leaves, during the winter we were able to identify them by their characteristic sooty-black leaf buds --- and now we find that in spring they have red flowers.

King John's Wood is about a mile away & has some venerable trees, such as this oak which provides shade for delicately-coloured wood anemones and a roosting support for these polypodia ferns.

Periodically, we extend our daily amble along the Cheddar Valley Railway Walk to include the lower slopes of Kings Wood. Now that April is here, we are doing this more frequently as the early spring flowers are beginning to put in an appearance. The wood is open and mature, with some fine trees, the floor is becoming a carpet of green as the Ramsons (wild garlic) get going. We've also been enjoying good views of the birds which are easy to spot at this time of year amongst the bare branches. The best so far have been several Greater Spotted woodpeckers and Nuthatches.

The old railway track runs on an embankment, N/S through the coombe between Cross Plain and Shute Shelve Hill and the slight elevation affords a good view of the valley slopes either side. Part of the western slope is managed by the National Trust and last year they acquired a small herd of British White Park cattle which have spent the winter in the valley.

Spring has definitely arrived - the catkins are out (as are the bees), celandine and primroses line the old railway track. Kings Wood is fast acquiring a green carpet of Ramsons leaves and there are lambs in the big field to the west of the track.

Some of the trees and bushes host interesting lichens. The University of Edinburgh has a useful web page which notes: Lichens have been described as "dual organisms" because they are symbiotic associations between two (or sometimes more) entirely different types of microorganism.

Here we have a gray Parmelia physodes, a foliose lichen and a Cladonia pyxidata which is a squamulose lichen, the erect stalked cups are termed podetia.

Spring continues apace, the first butterfly we usually see is the Comma and this year is no exception. The primroses along the edge of the railway walk have been joined by cowslips.

Quite delightful.

New mobile phone.

I recently updated the mobile phone to one which has a quite capable built-in digital camera, it has macro ability which I used to take these photographs of Sycamore and Field Maple flowers. Not bad results for a phone!

More mobile fun.

In a cold and soggy Spring, a sunny day came as more than welcome and once again we extended our walk into Kings Wood.

This was a good location to test the new phone's 3-shot panorama option, the stitches aren't perfect but the resulting images are quite pleasing.

Further along the path we were quite delighted by this scene of early Ramson flowers blossoming behind a stand of bluebells fronted by some late flowering celandines. On setting out to photograph the scene we found, most annoyingly, that the re-chargable batteries of the "real" camera had just given up the ghost and we had'nt brought spares. But the mobile did a good job as backup camera in capturing a scene that we would have otherwise had to wait another year to record. The next twelve days were rain, work, rain and by the time we got back to the woods the bluebells and celandines had gone over.

After a couple of weeks of dull weather and a fairly busy work schedule we managed to take advantage of a spell of fine weather and head back to the woods.

Things have certainly moved on somewhat since we were last here. The trees are coming into leaf at an astonishing rate and the contrast of the fresh spring-green leaves of an ash tree against the vibrant blue sky is a joyful and enlivening sight.

Ramson flowers dominate the woodland floor and their scent fills the air. If you're of a garlic persuasion it makes your mouth water.

We were hoping for some better light. Although it isn't actually raining, the sky is overcast and the light has a blue cast which makes everything look a little cold. Still, the drifts of wild garlic in King Johns Wood don't seem to mind and the woodpeckers are easily visible high up in the trees, drumming away, looking for grubs.

This the "big field", as we call it. This is the "leaved" version, here it is a month earlier, quite a difference.

We like the grand sweep of the field and on the embankment we are far enough removed for the occasional wildlife visitor to be unconcerned by our presence. We have seen a fox making its way across the contour of the field and, on another occasion, a delicate little Muntjac deer grazing.

This time of year, the field is awash with buttercups.

Late May is the main time for meadow buttercups. At the edge of town, the "kissing gate" leads on to this fine hay meadow. In the lee of the hedge, Alexanders are blooming (white umbellifers) and the grass is beginning to grow tall.

On the old railway track we spot a weasel, bounding leisurely along the pathway towards us. We stop and wait but his destination is somewhere down the embankment and he disappears into cover.

Up at our turnaround point (1m from the house) is Winscombe Tunnel Cutting, a damp, shady and fern-lined place with a slippery earth bank, steepening into limestone rock walls as it nears the tunnel entrance. The dappled sunlight brings out the stunningly rich greens of the ferns and ivy.

Steve joins us for a Sunday stroll to Cross Plain, we take a different route from our usual along the lower path in Kings Wood. This path skirts the top of the "big field" which affords us with a fine view of the grazing White Park Cattle and beyond them the pond and then the railway walk.

These spectacular, very laid-back cattle are a fairly recent introduction to the area and during the summer are set to roam free on the top of Cross Plain and Wavering Down, performing landscape maintenance on behalf of the National Trust. White Park Cattle are an ancient breed and have always been popular in art and literature. They are probably the oldest breed of cattle found in the British Isles.

Interesting ash tree bark texture.

Recently, the garden has become a "day centre" for several sparrow families with fledglings. From the kitchen window we see them all around the garden. The fledglings are still quite fluffy, very cute and flutter their wings at their diligently attentive parents. They have joined the other "regulars" at our bird table: greenfinches, bluetits, great tits, a dunnock, Colin the coaltit, Uriah the blackbird and his missus; the garden, as usual, was positively jumping. Such was the scene first thing this morning when I made my coffee.

Some urgent work detained me at the keyboard for the next hour or so and when I returned to the kettle for another cuppa I glanced out of the window to see that the garden now contained one and only one undeniably beautiful bird.

This elder bush is putting on a fine show of blooms, celebrating the refurbished "kissing gate" which leads into the hay meadow - that's red valerian on the wall and Cross Plain in the background.

After getting a little too warm on a brisk walk along the railway path, Winscombe Tunnel Cutting is very welcome, it feels several degrees cooler. This is a view towards the tunnel. The Cheddar Valley Railway Walk Society is installing very discreet solar-powered, person-activated "catseye" lights in the floor of the tunnel --- which will be turned off at night so as not to disturb the colony of bats which roost there.

In a shady nook, down the side of the embankment overlooking the "big field", one may choose to take one's ease at couple of memorial seats.

Nearby are several Great Mullein plants, all of which were hosting Mullein moth caterpillars. The photographs probably should be titled "Big bruvva."

Winscombe Tunnel Cutting - such a relief after the heat. A cool breeze blows steadily out of the dark 100m tunnel and it's just like walking into mild air-conditioning.

Several robins have nests in the cutting walls and don't seem to be too bothered about us standing around watching them hunting. Each pair has its own stretch of cutting and they flit amongst the spindly shrubs and ferns, picking up insects. They are, as the bird book fittingly describes, "confiding" --- in that they will perch unconcerned on nearby branches and grub around in the leaf litter quite close to us.

The adult sheep in the big field have been sheared recently but many are obviously feeling the heat --- however the ash tree seems to be doing sterling service. Behind us, in a hawthorn shrub on the other side of the embankment, a blackcap is singing and chattering to himself. They used to be summer visitors but many are now overwintering in the UK. We've been feeding a pair all winter, so it's nice to get some return on investment.

Although this year's Spring was a little late (and, on occasion a little wet) June is turning out to be a good month, weather-wise. The trees are in full leaf at this stage and I was particularly struck by the colour combination of blue sky, green Sycamore leaves and the developing red-brown keys.

Down by the memorial seats on the side of the embankment and overlooking the big field, the dogwood is in bloom, attracting a considerable number of bees and other insects.

There were fewer dog violets on Shute Shelve Hill slopes this year but the rock roses seem to be having a bumper year --- looking up from the town one can see a yellow carpet on the upper slopes.

Around this time last year we visited Charterhouse several times over a couple of weeks and on each visit we saw Green Hairstreak butterflies in the same area. We thought we'd take the gamble and asked Steve if he'd be interested in an outing to Charterhouse for a picnic and an offchance of seeing some Green Hairstreaks. Fortunately, we were not disappointed and got some good views and some decent close-ups.

We also saw a couple of lizards and what we took to be a couple of Clouded Yellow butterflies but the former were wriggling rapidly for cover, the latter just pelted past and quickly disappeared round the hill - very strong fliers.

We're quite fond of the various beetles we meet in the course of our meanderings, we're getting to recognise some of the different varieties but we hadn't come across one of these before. Unsurprisingly, it's called a "Swollen-thighed beetle".

The local newspaper carried a small article advising that now is a good time to keep an eye open for glow-worms. We'd seen one once before in Cornwall but didn't expect to see any round here as we thought there would be too much artificial illumination. However, disused railway lines are specifically mentioned as likely sites, so we thought we'd take a late-night turn along the railway walk --- and saw four glow-worms the first night and three the following night.

Macro photography at night with a digital camera needs a bit of practice, this was the best I could manage. Although we continue to check, we haven't seen any more.

A composite panorama of photographs of the view south from the slopes of Shute Shelve Hill above Axbridge town.

The visual oddities of the composite make it look as though the scene is taken from within a valley but scrolling the full-sized image horizontally gives a much better impression of how one takes in the view.

To the left, round the hill from the allotments, lies Cheddar Gorge. Glastonbury Tor is just visible on the horizon to the right of the reservoir.

The Isle of Wedmore lies due South, the Isle of Frogs (aka Brent Knoll) is SW, beyond is the Bristol Channel.

The village of Cross lies at the foot of Cross Plain to the right.

The clouds were making attractive patterns of light and shade on Cross Plain slopes and I couldn't resist -- far more pleasant than the same scene in March.

The White Park cattle seem to be much more comfortable in the warmer weather - they do seem to huddle together when it's cold and wet. There are some calves in evidence and we look forward to meeting them up on the top of Wavering Down later in summer where they work on behalf of the National Trust by tromping down the bracken and maintaining the grassland.

We've begun to extend our daily walk to include the lower slopes of Shute Shelve Hill because it is prime time for the wildflowers. Yellow rock-roses predominate along with birdsfoot trefoil, centaury, milkwort, wild thyme, dropwort and St Johns wort.

Off to Charterhouse to try and spot fritillaries and to listen to skylarks. When we were last up at Charterhouse with Steve, we saw some fritillaries but weren't able to identify them, also I was feeling skylark-deprived --- we try to ensure that one day each summer, we take a light picnic and spend some time just listening to skylark song.

While we were there, we checked out the old smelting pond, now completely taken over by reeds and wildlife, there's a rather fine patch of water-lilies. I managed to get a shot of yellow-wort with its petals open - they seem only to open during the middle of the day, at all other times, they are just pointed buds. The flowering grasses can be very delicately pretty and there are Common Spotted and Bee orchids if you care to spend some time looking.

Fritillaries are often strong fliers and these were too busy to be photographed until they knocked off work at around six when it was clearly time for a bit of R&R and only then were we able to get some good close-ups.

They turned out to be Pearl-bordered Fritillaries, Ngaio used her mobile phone's camera to take a nice shot of one with its wings classically spread, an excellent illustration.

Sad to relate, the Pearl-bordered Fritillary is in rapid decline in the UK and, although once widespread, the species is now declared to be "highly threatened" in England and Wales.

We have a screw-on macro extension for the digital camera but it's only useful for slow-moving or immobile subjects who don't mind a lens being shoved in their face --- such as this caterpillar of the Six-spot Burnet moth, for instance.

Athought it has a very shallow depth of field, the extension does allows one to take quite intimate shots of the flora. This is a pyramidal orchid, one of several growing on the slopes of Shute Shelve Hill.

Just by the back door, on our way out, we notice an uninvited but welcome guest, a Small Magpie Moth, whose distinctly-marked black and white wings are beautifully set off by its yellow "cloak".

Along the Strawberry Line, we finally manage to photograph the tiny flower head of a Lesser Trefoil, quite similar to those of Black Medick, the plant itself resembles a vetchling.

From a distance, the higher slopes of Shute Shelve Hill are a yellow carpet of Birds-foot Trefoil and Rock Rose.

This was a real photographic beanfeast, the walk was filled with wildlife to say the least. Here are the edited highlights.

Whilst ambling along the Strawberry Line, we got our first sighting of a Silver Washed Fritillary (the largest of the British butterflies) which was a real treat. It really is a big butterfly.

Further on, the path is partly shaded by an ash grove and at this point it is edged with fine stands of Ribbed Melilot and Meadow Vetchling.

As we continue on into Kings Wood, the open woodland offers welcome shade from the strong sunshine, it is very hot. The sunlight creates beautiful highlights on the woodland floor and brings out the sumptuous colours of some moss-covered tree bark.

This Orange Mullein is a new flower to us, it had found a clearing all to itself. We spent some time puzzling over these numerous plain brown butterflies which we had been seeing. They turned out to be recently-pupated Ringlet butterflies, whose characteristic spots have yet to develop fully.

Since early this year, a flock of sheep has been occupying the field adjacent to the railway track and we kept an eye on them through the lambing season. The lambs are growing fast, here a very woolly lamb take its ease in the shade of some trees, idly continuing to graze, even whilst lying down. By contrast, the White Park cattle seem much less affected by the heat.

Returning home, the bright pink flowers of Wild Basil are quite eye-catching, as is an enormous hoverfly - Volucella Zonaria , another British largest.

The day has progressed and the sunlight takes on a somewhat gentler tone which gives a fine backlight to a Mallow flower. Finally we catch a Cream Spot Tiger Moth resting on a bramble leaf.

Wild raspberries grow along the Old Railway line, the fruit is considerably smaller than anything we might buy in the shops but the berries are packed with flavour. Very delicious :)

There is a wide variety of Hawkweeds to be seen in the area, some are distinctive enough to be readily to identified (e.g. Fox-and-Cubs, Mouse-eared Hawkbit). We believe that this is Bristly Oxtongue. Another plant which comes in many varieties is the thistle, not a universal favourite but in their place, glorious for their colour and a great food resource for many insects. Close inspection reveals that this pollen-dusted flower head has attracted a number of tiny green beetles, this particular thistle is probably a Meadow Thistle.

A morning jaunt to Cross Plain. The old railway track runs north/south along the valley, between Shute Shelve Hill to the east and Wavering Down to the south. Cross Plain is atop the western valley slope and leads on to Wavering Down.

On a fine summer's morning, it a great feeling to be above it all. The views are uplifting.

Unfortunately, there is little to be done about eyesore developments such as this, at the foot of Shute Shelve Hill. Perhaps a grove of tall trees might hide this tacky mess.

Up at Rowberrow, Tynings Farm riding centre is also the start of the path up to Black Down and Beacon Batch. In fine weather there are good views from the path of Steep Holm out in the Bristol Channel and a couple of years ago we got a great shot of the adjacent field filled with daisies.

The daisy swathe hasn't reoccurred but these clean skylines still strike me as special, perhaps it's the lure of what might be over the hill.

Black Down and Beacon Batch is a bit of a blasted heath in the colder seasons and somewhat of an acquired taste being mostly scrub heather and gorse. However, the views often make up for that because they cover both the north and the south. To the north, Bristol International airport and the 2nd Severn crossing, further round is Blagdon (not a Yorkshire colliery but a Somerset village) and Chew Magna lakes.

Black Down is dotted with clumps of heather which is now starting to bloom. I couldn't resist this shot.

And to Charterhouse, on a blisteringly hot day, with loosely-packed lunch of a fish bun and a bottle of water, in the hope of catching some late skylark song.

Up in the top corner of Charthouse there is a narrow path up to a kissing gate which leads into the "gruffy ground" proper. In high summer, the bracken, the wild raspberries, the cow parsley and rosebay willow herb form head-height walls on both sides of the path, you have to shoulder your way through. This part of the path is full of insects, which are food for the lizards which hang out in the heather and in turn, the lizards are food for the adders which live here. This dragonfly didn't mind me taking some close shots.

I was lucky enough to get some good shots of this High Brown fritillary on the slope of the hill above the path.

And there was a late skylark, singing its little heart out as it flew higher and higher, almost disappearing in the cloudless sky. Glorious.

Later that evening I took a stroll along the railway path, looking for glow worms and was able to capture some close detail of this lassie. It's pretty dense cover in there, the green fronds are sphagnum moss - you can see why she needs to light the way for a prospective mate.

The last time I walked to Wavering Down was about a year ago and it was in company with my sister Paula. We were both charmed to meet the British White park cattle also enjoying the view from the trig point.

Although it's less than 300m above sea level and quite tractable in most weathers, this is still an exposed position. Because of this, the wildflowers here grow close to the ground and are smaller than those in sheltered areas. This delicate little bouquet of wild thyme and euphrasia (eyebright) could fit on a 20p piece.

This time at the trig point there was a fresh and steady sea breeze blowing in from the Channel and it swished through the stiff grass which grows here. The slow, rhythmic rise and fall of the hiss of the wind through the grass made for a powerful soundtrack to accompany the magnificent view.

A tomato, the now-familar fish bun and a bottle of water completed my bliss.

Ngaio is back from Salzburg and we take a trip up to Charterhouse. The temperature is on the rise again, though a steady breeze makes the heat pleasant. The harebells are putting on a fine display. Combined with the wild marjoram and scabious, which are also in full bloom, the heath has a distinct lilac-blue dusting. In the air and on almost every flowerhead there are butterflies; blues, fritillaries, clouded yellows, marbled, large and small whites whilst overhead a skylark sings.

As well as innumerable butterflies, there are remarkably large numbers of dragonflies. Two darters, a male (red) and a female (yellow) take a break and allow us an excellent photo-opportunity.

They are probably Common Darters but there is also a slight possibility that they are Red-veined Darters, apparently the pterostigma (the "spots" on the wings) of Red-veined Darter are yellow in the centre with a brown outline. We can never get close enough to tell, so it remains their secret.

Our daily walks along the old Strawberry line nearly always include something of interest. There is a small meadow which occupies the corner between Kings Wood and Winscombe Tunnel cutting.

In spring, young rabbits sunbathe in the adjoining briar patch and in summer, when the meadow has just been mown, the air is full of swallows and martins, swooping and diving to streak along the length of the field just a few inches off the ground.

We were completely engaged in watching one such aerobatic display when suddenly we became aware that all the birds had disappeared and we were gazing at an empty field. We looked up to see a hawk flying powerfully overhead and, as we watched, a buzzard came swooping in at speed, attacked the hawk and drove it off. It was a fast flyer and before it disappeared from sight, we recognised the distinctive sickle-shaped wing outline of a peregrine falcon.

This is the meadow, nothing special ... except for the rabbits, songbirds, foxes, butterflies, dragonflies, peregrine falcons, etc. etc.

And some grass seedheads from in Kings Wood. Ngaio reckons it may be a form of Bent grass, I suppose we shall have to start being a little more discerning about our grasses as well.

This is where we go to listen to skylarks. Ubley Warren is rightly named, there is an extensive rabbit population here and the gorse bushes on the opposite slope of this shallow valley conceal a veritable rabbit-town.

Here on the Charterhouse side, the warrens are smaller but very cute - there is usually a level depression about 6' across and a few inches deep where the grass is so closely cropped that it resembles a bowling green and arranged around, in a (surprisingly neat) circle, are a number of stereotype burrows. Looks just like a little village green, straight out of an illustration for a children's book. "A rabbitation", Ngaio observed.

When you go to watch the skylarks, the best observing position is flat on your back amongst the flowers, looking up into the endless blue summer sky. If, after 20mins or so, in the interval, you sit up slowly and look round, just a few dozen feet away on either side there are groups of rabbits sat out on their village green eyeing you up. If you sink carefully back down, they just ignore you and hop about, happily unconcerned.

Mellow.

We frequently end our daily walk with a ramble along the slopes of Shute Shelve hill. Ngaio spotted this Oak-Egger moth which we thought to be a traffic casualty but later realised that it was newly-pupated. The extreme close-up reveals a remarkably Bambi-like appearance.

The apple tree growing wild at the foot of Axbridge Hill provides food for the wildlife right through until January. This year's apples are just starting to turn red. Growing nearby is a patch of bright yellow toadflax amidst a purple drift of wild thyme.

A day trip to Devon to catch up with Ngaio's brother Dan, his wife Elke and their daughter Fiona, taking a brief holiday. Dan, with an unerring sense of irony chooses to stay near a place called Chipshop, so we are to meet at the Chipshop inn for lunch and then on to sample the delights of Dartmoor.

Dartmoor is another place which gives one a great sense of space and a feeling of being on the top of the world.

This stallion foal was full of himself, winnying winsomely and prancing around like a big girl's blouse, immediately capturing all female hearts in the vicinity.

This is probably some extremely well-known and completely over-photographed hillock but we intend to return, with proper cameras.

Just before Winscombe tunnel is a cutting with near-vertical 30ft high rock walls, richly decorated with ferns. Further out, the walls turn into steeply-sloping earth banks, ideal for the rabbits and several families of shrews which live in holes in the bank. Occasionally, if you stand very still for a while, the shrews will venture out and scuttle around the bank, quite oblivious to you. Ngaio decided to call this place "Shrewsbury".

Where the railway used to cross the A38, there is a fine stand of wild clematis, cascading down over a hawthorn. I took this looking upward into the cascade, the glossy leaves are reflecting the sky.

Today was a genuine butterfly bonanza. The clouded yellow was high up on the slope of Shute Shelve Hill, sharing airspace with a squadron of Common Hawker dragonflies. We'd glimpsed a couple of Clouded yellows up at Charterhouse but they are strong fliers and were soon out of sight. Fortunately, this one wanted a rest and gave me ample opportunity to take a photograph. They are most frequently migrants but it is believed that some may now be resident.

The brown argus, the late brimstone and the blue were all on the trackside of the old railway.

The weather continues fine, most of the early summer wildflowers have finished blooming, now we have the mid- to late-summer varieties such as this Red Bartsia.

This splendid ash in the middle of the meadow is obviously providing welcome shade.

A fairly clear day, so I took the opportunity to capture this sweeping sky over the landscape to the east, overlooking Axbridge towards Cheddar and, 11 miles distant, Wells.

We frequently take a stroll around Kings Wood as part of the walk. The wood has some splendid trees and is nearly always full of birds. The dappled light on the woodland floor is a continued source of delight.

This time through we see a Speckled Wood butterfly, at rest on some bracken.

It had been a while since Ngaio had been up to Wavering Down and, as the day was fine and sunny, we decided to extend the walk to Wavering Down.

It's intriguing how a slight shift in angle changes the tone of a photograph. In the image to the left, we are a detached, remote observer yet in the image to the right we share the view and a degree of intimacy.

This is what Ngaio was contemplating - that's Brean on the coast and on the horizon is Foreland Point, some 50 miles distant.

Paula and the family came down to stay along with their dog, Jack. We took a trip up to Charterhouse where the heather was in bloom and looking lovley. And Jack had a great time, running around and rooting through the undergrowth.

Making our way back to the car from the beech grove, Jack suddenly became very interested in a patch of ground, on closer inspection we found that he had disturbed an adder who had shown great restraint given Jack's persistent nosing about.

I'm happy to report that both Jack and the adder were harmed during this encounter. Whilst Paula checked that Jack was unbitten, I watched the adder from a respectful distance. It played dead, holding it's body was rigid and mainly belly-up though it did keep it's head raised. It held this frozen posture for about a minute before making a very hasty exit disappearing into a clump of grass.

Woodland Fungi

In their "Introduction to Fungi", the Offwell Woodland & Wildlife Trust say : "In Britain there are more than 20,000 species of fungi. Most of these are microfungi, too small to be easily noticed. Approximately 3,000 are macro (large) fungi." Here are two examples of fungi seen in Kings Wood.

The first, which I have yet to identify, is tiny, not much more than 1cm in height and was found fruiting along side a beech tree root. The second is a bracket fungus. A pristine specimen, with russet tones spreading out to it's creamy edge set against the rich browns of the deeply textured tree back and "verdigris" lichen.

A further extension of the walk up through Kings Wood leads on to the slopes of Cross Plain where the white park cattle are now roaming freely over the slopes, helping to maintain the downland ecosystem. This cow has the typical black nose and black woolly ears. Although the horns look formidable, this breed is noted for its placidity and they are extremely tolerant of walkers' excited dogs. We frequently continue on the short amble up to Wavering Down in order to enjoy the extensive views from the Ordnance Survey trig point.

On the return part of our usual walk, we often take in the lower slopes of Shute Shelve Hill and drop down to the town by way of Back Lane. This is more of an alleyway than a lane, about 6ft. wide, bordered by stone walls and not only affords fascinating glimpses of adjoining gardens and, on a late summer's evening with the sunlight slanting in from the west, gives an intimate view of the town's rooftops.

Summer may be drawing to a close, but we are still enjoying warm, sunny days and there is still plenty to see. A fabulous Comma butterfly caught our attention as is feasted on fermenting blackberries, it's colouring was outstandingly rich. And once again the dragonflies are out in number. A cascade of Old Man's Beard (clematis seed heads) overhanging a berried hawthorn does lend a slightly more Autumnal feel to the walk.

The oil retort house that stands close to the beach at Kilve is a relic from the 1920's when oil extraction from the oil rich shale beds took place. The process proved too costly to make it profitable and the enterprise was abandoned, leaving us this rather quirky looking structure, whose chimney appears to be venting ivy.

The beach itself is a treasure trove in so many ways. A mix of dark brown sand, large sea-rounded stones and "pavements" of oil shale, sandstone and limestone, backed by eroded cliffs make compelling and often abstract photographic subjects.

The many fossils that are to be found here, including Ammonites, Cockle shells and Gryphaea (Devil's toenails, a genus of extinct oyster), tell of a time when these rocks formed part of a Jurassic sea bed.

A walk along the cliff tops accompanied by the ever present gulls affords some wonderful views down on to the beaches.

On a walk through the woods Graham drew my attention to some flowers that we had not seen before, which turned out to be Meadow Saffron. Given their appearance, it came as know surprise to learn that they are also known as Autumn Crocus, though their other name of Naked Lady did raise an eyebrow. The latter appellation comes from the fact that the flowers emerge from the ground long after the leaves have died back. It's location in the woods was also a surprise, as the plant is usually found in wet meadows on clay soil, having seen other images of the plant, the ones we saw in the woods do seem a little pale and "leggy".

A few wild flowers continue to provide us with a little colour, here some more ribbed melilot being visited by a brown fly.

Whilst walking through the woods we stray from the path and have a bit of an explore, where it does get quite overgrown and "tulgey" in places. More fungi caught our eye, a large fruiting of honey fungus around a tree stump and a huge bracket fungus at the base of a tree.

Walking back from the town square after a heavy shower of rain, the sky is transformed from overcast to mainly blue. Someone has lit a bonfire and it's producing clouds of smoke, which drifts over the rooftops to fill High Street and West Street with a temporary haze. The dissipating smoke and golden evening light lend a timeless quality to the streets.

Walking up toward the old railway line, we often look back towards Axbridge and enjoy this view out across the levels with Nyland Hill to the left and to the right, Glastonbury Tor.

Thundery showers rumble around all day. We take advantage of a break in the rain for a quick walk along the old railway line and it really is a bit of a dash to avoid the next deluge. Looking south east we see in the distance, massive cumulonimbus clouds from the previous downpour. Whilst from the west the next cell drifts over head, casting everything into shadow. On the shoulder of Cross Plain, the White Park Cattle take some shelter on the easterly slopes, save one who seems to stand sentinel against the coming storm.

At the end of an overcast day, the sky begins to clear on the western horizon and we know we are in for a treat. As the setting sun drops below the cloud line it under lights the clouds colouring them in subtle tones of mauve and apricot. Minute by minute the colours intensify to deep purple and vermillion streaked with gold. Breathtaking.

The mild temperatures continue, but there are a few Autumnal hints here and there. A fine crop of rose-hips amongst the brambles and the late afternoon sun accentuating the colours of the slowly transforming woodland.

As the sun drops behind the shoulder of Cross Plain, a few red leaves of an ash can be seen in amongst the tangle of Old Mans Beard. Beyond the Axbridge Moor is bathed in hazy golden light.

Along the old railway line and through the wood, robins are our constant companions, hopping about on the paths, darting in and out of the undergrowth or perched on a branch, singing their beautiful songs.

On an overcast and gloomy day a momentary break in the clouds lights a portion of the "Big Field". The light moves towards us for a few seconds and then the clouds close up and we are returned to the gloom.

A recent cold snap has had a marked effect on the scenery, The field maples are putting on a really good show of colour. And in the hedgerows, rose-hips are still abundant.

A very dramatic sunset over the Isle of Frogs this evening.

Out for a walk to Kings Wood on a crisp November afternoon. There is still a good show of colour, though it's apparent that the leaf fall is now well under way, the paths are littered with leaves.

The sheep have apparently been swapped out for a tractor which acts as a counterpoint to the sweeping lines of the wooded hill beyond and the rich hedgerows either side.

An alternative extension to our walk along the old railway line takes us through the tunnel and along the path until we reach a small set of steps on the left leading up the embankment to a kissing gate and in to what we shall from here on in be referring to as "the lower field", it has a problem with its drainage :)

We'll no doubt feature this section of the walk a little later on this year. Not a lot of point at the moment as we are leaving our walk until quite late in the day, and it's usually getting close to dusk by the time we get here.

However, I felt that this particular photograph warranted inclusion to the diary. Obviously not for its image quality (taken at dusk on the phonecam, in pouring rain ), but for its content. A primrose flowering in December.

More early arrivals in the lower field, along with well advanced catkins we've found the first of this year's Lesser Celandines. Again, not a great shot - taken under similar conditions to the primrose we photographed in December but another clear indication of how mild this winter has been.

The Sunken Coach Road is an ancient thoroughfare which probably began as a drove track and has most likely been in continuous use for a few thousand years. We've heard it suggested that the continuous use accounts for the fact that the level of the "road" is approximately ten feet below the level of the adjoining fields.

Over the years its use changed, it is now a bridleway. The thoroughfare has been narrowed by encroaching vegetation and overhanging trees; the uneven, stony road is often very muddy, making it quite a challenge for walkers and horse riders alike.

A few weeks after this posting we returned with a friend and his children: one of whom was profoundly disappointed at the lack of sunken coaches!

We've been missing out the lower field in favour of the woods for a couple of weeks, but are really glad that we took this route today. On leaving field via its top exit, which takes us on to the Sunken Coach Road and with a short pull up the hill to the foot of Kings Wood we came across a most beautiful display of snowdrops covering the bank.

On a sunny afternoon the woods are looking great, overhead along the twisting branches of oaks the arboreal ferns catch the light and seem to glow. The trees cast long shadows across the leaf strewn ground. The rich, warm colours of the woodland floor counterpointed by the vivid greens of the grass in the field beyond.

Near the top gate of "the lower field", there stands a very large and mature pollarded willow. The pollarding has produced enormous knuckle-like pollard heads which rather puts us in mind of the "Whomping Willow" in the J.K.Rowling books.

To the left, beyond the fence under the tree a grey squirrel sat, quite unbothered by our presence, as it ate it's way through a hazelnut. Grey squirrels may be classed as pests due to their destructive habits, but they are none the less very engaging creatures.

The magnolia trees have come into bloom recently and are putting on a really lovely display. The soft pink tones of the flowers and the sap green shoots look beautiful against the clear blue sky.

In the woods Graham makes a discovery in the form of a curious plant flowering at the base of an Alder. A little investigation reveals it to be Toothwort, a parasitic plant with no green at all - no chlorophyll. There's a nice description of this plant and its habits on www.the-tree.org.uk.

Once again, the signs of spring abound, pussy willow against a blue sky and the first lambs have started to appear in the "big field". The woodland remains largely free of leaves though here and there you can make out a faint dusting of leaf colour. The Scots Pines certainly stand out from the crowd at this time of year.

The lack of leaves gives us a very clear view through the woodland where a carpet of bright green, new Ramson leaves covers the ground.

Back in February, we drew your attention to the Pollarded Willow at the top on the "lower field". Walking there today, we met a man from the Mendip Society, who manage the fields. We passed a pleasant few minutes in converstation about the field during which he told us, amongst other things, that what we thought to be a Pollarded Willow, is believed to be a Small-leaved Lime. As we haven't seen it in leaf before, I think our mistake is understandable :-) and we're now looking forward to seeing the tree in leaf, which, by the look of the buds, won't be long now.

(He also told us that these fields are called Slader's Leigh.)

Out at Charterhouse there's a large reed bed and pond, where at this time of year you can see a great display of Marsh Marigolds (a.k.a. Kingcups). There's a very pleasant path to walk through the woods that follows on from the reed bed, off the path the ground is very boggy and the Marsh Marigolds grow here too.

In the woods, we were quite delighted by a carpet of tiny green flowers, that we hadn't come across before. The macro facility of the camera revealed an unusual flowerhead (not really discernible to the naked eye), four flowers facing out and one facing up. The flower has a number of names: Muskroot (due to it's scent), Moschatel, Townhall Clock or Five-faced Bishop.

Almost a month ago the Scots pine was really noticable in the then leafless woods. But the warm weather has certainly encouraged a lot of leaf growth and the pine doesn't stand out so much. What a differnce in four weeks!

A beautiful warm and sunny day today, more like summer than spring. But any seasonal confusion drops away as we take the steps up the embankment to Sladers Leigh where, in the shade of the trees, we find a sumptuous display of celandines and anemones.

Stepping out into the field the first things we notice are the stand of silver birches, leaves shimmering in the gentle breeze and the drifts of Lady's Smock standing in the grass. A little further up the gentle slope stands a fine and ancient oak surrounded by violets and cowslips and the first bluebells of the season.

A little further up the field again, the woodland cherry trees in are blossom. The blooms are so much more delicate and subtle than those of the ornamental cherries currently flowering in the local gardens and promise fruit to follow!

At the top end of the field is a memorial bench to Edward Jeffree (1908 - 2004), where we often take a few minutes to rest and enjoy the peace and tranquillity of our surroundings.

Behind the bench is the Lime that we earlier thought to be a willow, the nesting box that is mounted on the tree is being used by bluetits, and we can hear the chicks peeping away as their parent make repeated visits with food. The Lime is now in leaf and looking wonderful as are the celandines at it's base.

The Sunken Coach Road has quite a different feel to how it was back in February. In the dappled shade from the rapidly filling canopy, the banks are now much richer in vegetation, more ramsons (wild garlic), celandines, anemones and violets overhung by ferns.

And so we move on, once again into King's Wood, where the woodland floor is carpeted with flowering ramsons interspersed with bluebells.

We took a trip up towards Bristol, near Butcombe and had a wander about the fields up there. The broad "plateau" on top of the hills close to the airport doesn't really afford many good views, but there were several fine trees that caught our attention.

A horse chestnut standing alone in the middle of one field, broad branches spreading out giving shade to a squirrel that was bounding around it's base. And an oak which marked the boundary between one field and the next, where the farmer had kindly left an artistically placed old piece of farm machinery.

And finally, an old oak at the edge of a field whose heart wood had been completely eaten away, yet clearly doing quite well despite it's apparently sorry condition.

A lovely day to take our usual walk. On our way out we always pass by the garden of Compton House, a Georgian country house hotel. The garden is quite lovely, a tribute to the hard work of Robert, the proprietor, with whom, today, we pause to have a chat. During our conversation, Graham takes the opportunity to photograph Axbridge moor through the blossom filled branches of the apple tree that stands at the bottom of the garden.

We then take our usual route along to Sladers Leigh, where the lime tree is looking magnificent in the bright sunlight. And now that we know what lime trees look like, we see them all through Kings Wood, though we're still not certain which are "ordinary" limes and which are small-leaved limes.

The thriving village of Wedmore is a nexus point in this area, situated across the moor to the south-east of Axbridge, on the gentle slopes of the eponymous Isle of Wedmore.

The church of St Mary's overlooks much of the village which is edged north and south by low hills. Climbing the southern slope the views over the rooftops, framed by trees, are tremendously rewarding. As is the overview of the village from the top of the hill.

On such a beautiful day, the red-tiled roofs contrast vividly against the clear blue sky (and provide a perch for the resident doves).

The northern slope, Lascot Hill, has a large rolling field bordered by woodland, which provides us with another overview of Wedmore.

It hadn't been raining as such but it had been rather gloomy under the low cloudbase until late in the afternoon when a break in the cloud allowed the sunlight to spill down the slope of the fields bordering Kings Wood and Cross Plain. The sky is somewhat burned out in the second image but I wanted to try and capture the way that the sunlight picked out the sheep dotted all the way up the slope.

A real treat in the garden this morning, in the form of a pair of Bullfinches, the first time that we've seen them in our garden. They came in to have a share of the seeds that we put out (and were soon joined by some sparrows) then they took a quick drink from the bird bath and were off.

It was of course the male how caught my attention, his bright reddish-pink feathers are really eye-catching. We see them reasonably often whilst out walking, but due to their shy natures, this is usually at a distance or as a snatched glimpse. More often than not it's their quiet piping call that alerts us to their presence. So to get this sort of a view of them was a pleasure.

After what proved to be a very wet May, some sunny weather is more than welcome. And whilst we haven't exactly enjoyed the persistent precipitation, the vegetation seems to be thriving. Everything is so lush and green and flowers are blossoming everywhere, as this shot of the Big Field alongside the old railway line demonstrates.

On the bank next to the horses' field there are a couple of fine examples of native English roses: a dog rose (Rosa canina) and a sweet briar rose (Rosa rubiginosa) intertwine in a tangle of white and delicate pink blossoms.

At the far end of the walk, Slader's Leigh demonstrates exactly why this rare fragment of "unimproved grassland" is so valuable - it is covered with spotted orchids, including this splendid example, standing tall amongst the long grasses.

Over the past couple of weeks, the Bullfinches have been making regular appearances, feeding from the ground, taking a drink and then zooming off again. We thought that they and the other ground feeders were too vulnerable to predation from the cats which keep visiting our garden, so purchased small hanging bird-table. This paid off almost immediately. One of the first visitors to the new table was the Mrs B, Mr B looked on from the fence, (he does seem to be the more cautious of the pair). However, after some time observing he joined her for lunch

Situated in the Polden Hills, Collard Hill, is one of the sites for the re-introduction of the Large Blue Butterfly. We've been intending to pay a visit here for quite a while and having checked the NT's Large Blue Phone-line, took advantage of a rare a break in the lousy weather to pop over there.

We did get to see several Large Blues, but due to the blustery weather conditions, photographing them was not possible. However, other photo-opportunities did present themselves. The walk to Collard Hill from the near by car park took us past a traditional travellers encampment (bow-topped, horse-drawn caravans) with not a single motor vehicle to be seen.

And from the top of the hill the views are quite delightful. The combination of the flat lands of the levels interspersed with gently rolling wooded hills is very special and typify the Somerset landscape. And the rich vegetation provided other items of interest, a most thorny rose stem; the deep red thorns on the bright green stem made an eye catching combination. And not from that particular stem, a perfect Briar Rose.

A rabbit's life in the wild can be very brief; predation and disease are an ever-present threat. However, over the past three years, we have seen at least one rabbit family succeed at beating the odds.

Three years ago, amongst the population of rabbits in the field adjoining the Strawberry Line, we noticed a two-toned rabbit (BF). It was noticeable because of its brown body, white face, shoulders and flanks, possibly the result of an escaped domestic rabbit breeding with one of the wild rabbits. Over the years, it has become clear that this rabbit had produced offspring which we deduced from the appearance of a young white-faced rabbit with white shoulders (BFII). The most recent addition to the BF family (BFIII) has a white face and one white shoulder.

Why BF? Well, I do have a bad habit of naming animals that we see on a regular basis, BF stands for Bumface - very base, I know, but I just thought that when you see a rabbit running away, their white tail (scut) is very noticeable. So from a rabbit's point of view a white-faced rabbit....

We have developed a sneaking suspicion that the Bumface family are aware that they stand out from the crowd. They are the first to dash to cover at the approach of perceived danger (us), so getting a photograph has proved a challenge. So far this (of BF III) is the best I've managed. Pitiful isn't it?!

Mrs B continues to lead the way. She was first at the new bird table and has now taken to the seed feeder - clever girl!

Some visual records from one of our daily walks along the old railway line.

On an outcrop of limestone, right next to the road leading up the hill is a large patch of English Stonecrop that is now just coming into bloom. On the roadside a little further on is a large bunch of Ox-eye daisies that have been dazzling us regularly over the past week or so. Along the side of the railway path in the long grass, one of the many crickets is prepared to pose for a close-up, you can clearly see the ladder of segments down the side of the rear leg, rubbing these together creates the characteristic "chirrup". At the edge of the path, where the grass is shorter, Long-stalked Cranesbill brighten the border, the flowers are roughly the same size as Speedwell, about 1cm across. The last image is a Robin's Pincushion. It isn't a flower, although it might be mistaken for one, it is a dog rose gall, produced by the gall wasp Diplolepis rosae to give protection to its larvae. This one is from last year, they start off green and only acquire their red colouring in autumn.

Another rainy day, sigh. But a little ray of sunshine came along with Mr B today. What I a first thought to be Mrs B turned out to be a fledgling. This is great news, we've been reading that bullfinches have been red-listed, their numbers have declined rapidly in recent years.

Bright sunshine today and the bullfinch fledgling is back in with mum and dad. Today making independent forays for food and providing some entertainment too. The leaning garden chair looked like such a good perch, but the angle was too acute and junior slid down the edge in a quite comical fashion.

The mediaeval Church of St. John the Baptist overlooks the town square in Axbridge. It's a beautiful building whose simple and subtly coloured windows lend an overall light and airy feel to the interior. In the Lady Chapel to the south-east of the building, the early afternoon the sunlight casts light and shade across the stone floor and enhances the rich wood tones of the chairs.

The large patch of English Stonecrop on the exposed limestone outcrop by the side of the road is now in full bloom and makes an eye-catching sight.

A bit further along the way, on the gravel of the railway path, we encounter a Puss Moth caterpillar crossing (quite speedily) from the brambles to the open grass on the other side. Big chap. Apparently, when disturbed, it "raises its head and waves the twin tails, which have pinkish extendable flagellae". We didn't bother disturbing it, that gravel looks difficult enough to negotiate as it is and, from a vulnerable caterpillar's view, the open path must feel dangerously exposed.

The Bullfinch fledgling is now a regular visitor to the bird table usually tagging along with one or the other of it's parents. Today, it's Mrs. B being supervisor.

Today is warm and sunny. As usual, we get all hot and bothered and seek relief in the coolth of the cutting. Here, the lush ferns and the ivy that cover the slopes are sparkling in the dappled shade. Throught the tunnel and up into Slader's Leigh, we notice that the hazel trees are starting to produce this year's crop of hazel nuts.

Kings Wood can look almost sub-tropical in parts but actually it's just rampant ivy --- in which the squirrels make dreys. The lime grove is, as usual, gently shaded and cool. The late sun is slanting down from over Cross Plain and is backlighting these lime leaves to great effect.

Kings Wood is lightly managed, fallen trees are allowed to rot more or less where they fell. At one point, the path skirts the crumbling remnants of a 3' length of fallen trunk that seems to be providing a useful larder for badgers. Right now, the rotting trunk is supporting a group of small black fungi (about 1-2cm across). It's very shaded and a tripod would have been useful in the low light, this was the best I could manage hand-held. Unfortunately, we've not been able to identify them as yet.

The orchids have mostly gone over in Sladers Leigh and have been replaced with a heady display of Meadow Sweet and Betony speading throughout the long grass. The maturing grass seed head's subtle shades are most captivating as they wave about in the gentle breeze.

The National Trust have apparently been advised to graze cows on the slopes of Shute Shelve Hill, possibly in an effort to keep the encroaching bracken at bay. The cattle's tromping around seems have made rather a mess of the wildflowers on the lower slopes but we suppose that they'll recover.

However, what was once a rather attractive and extensive carpet of ground ivy has been trodden out of existence and has been replaced by this formidable but eye-catching stand of teasel and ragwort. It's probably not what the NT had in mind but the cinnabar moth's tiger-striped caterpillars will enjoy the ragwort and the local goldfinches will enjoy the teasel seeds after the bees have finished with the blooms.

Further along, an example of white self-heal needs to be added to our gradually-increasing collection of visual records of the wildflowers that we encounter.

[Update, the ragwort and teasels have been threshed, so i) the goldfinches are out of luck and ii) we're glad we took the shots when we did. It remains to be seen what will take over the space --- bracken, we suspect.]

It turns out that there are two Bullfinch fledglings - a little hard to see from the photograph, but neither bird here has the characteristic black cap of a mature bullfinch. Well done Mr. and Mrs. B!

Walking down to the Square I notice a moth parked up for the day in the shady portion of a window frame - a Swallow-tailed Moth.

One of the distinctive features of many of the local rooftops is the use of "pantiles", S-shaped interlocking clay roof tiles.

In sunny weather the warm colouring of the terracotta lends a somewhat Mediterranean feel to the place, an aspect that Ngaio has explored further in her "Heteroperspective II" series of works.

The tiles are usually subtly coloured by extensive patches of lichen. As is often the case, the locality has its own variety of pantile, we suspect that these may be "Bridgwater Double Roman" pantiles.

We sometimes indulge our fancies and stand by to see an insect safely across the Great Path Crossing to the long grass on the other side --- our macro photographs have brought home to us the very different scale on which insects operate. This Oak Egger moth caterpillar (Lasiocampa quercus) was a very noticeable feature on the path so we watched it safely across. We found it all the more satisfying to recall later that we have images of the rather cute adult Oak Egger moth.

It transpired that today was Flying ant day (I find it hugely entertaining that there's a wikipedia entry for Flying ant day). This is a fairly impressive feat, the ants have driven a passage right up through the tarmac pavement by the roadside.

The persistently wet and blustery conditions this summer have obviously made things difficult for butterflies, they have been noticeably absent. We were really pleased with this observation of a mating pair of silver-washed fritillaries, perched in the heart of some brambles bordering the Strawberry line.

To Charterhouse, with Steve and the girls. We were hoping to spot a lizard or two and had seen various scuttlings in the grass but hadn't managed to get a clear view until we encountered this half-size one basking on a sunny stone wall and who was relaxed enough for us all to get a good long view.

The old workings up at Charterhouse used a lot of water in the processing of the lead and the legacy is a couple of quite large ponds that are home to some fish, various water birds, grass snakes (an aquatic hunter, despite the name), marsh orchids and a rather fine patch of water lilies. I'm particularly taken with the glowing opalescence of the petals when they are lit by the late afternoon sun.

Try as we might, we have been unable to identify this pink flowering umbellifer-like plant that we found growing at the edge of the pond. Our efforts have not been helped by the fact that despite explicitly setting out to photograph its leaves to aid identification, we failed miserably to get a useful shot - sigh. Any suggestions as to what this is would be welcome.

Our drive home from Charterhouse takes us past Tynings Farm up at Rowberrow, where there are a beautiful westerly views down the rolling hillside to the Bristol Channel. The clear conditions today revealed the Welsh mountains, looking blue in the far distance, which are normally obscured by haze.

To take in the view properly we pulled into a lay-by next to a large cereal field bordered by a low dry stone wall overgrown by vetch, columbine and hogweed.

It's quite a different landscape up on the top of the Mendips, the ridge beyond Tynings Farm leads on to Beacon Batch, something of a blasted heath and the highest point of the Mendips at 325m above the (sea) levels.

Last year, while we were sat in the garden one of these wood wasps appeared and slowly flew along the trellis, examining it for potential egg-laying opportunities.

Although we tried, there just wasn't enough light to get a viable macro photograph, so we just sat and watched in absolute fascination while she methodically examined the surface of the trellis, gently patting the wood with her antennae as she flew, until she found a suitable place --- what appeared to us to be a plugged hole a couple of mm in diameter.

Although you'd hardly credit it, the ovipositor split lengthways, one half curled round and was used to penetrate the plug, the other half (with the white band) was moved vigorously around to both steer the ovipositor and drive it into the plug.

We knew it to be one of the 1200-odd species of ichneumon wasp and we were gratified to be able to identify it later as a Gasteruption Jaculator, one of the Gasteruptiidae - but we shall probably continue to call it the Bobby-sox fly because those white patches on the legs and ovipositor were extremely noticeable in the low light.

The old broad gauge Strawberry Line opened in 1869 which makes the Shute Shelve tunnel around 140 years old. The southern half of the tunnel has been driven through solid limestone, the northern half required a brick liner (memo to self, next time avoid using auto-focus in the dark).

The Cheddar Valley Railway Walk Society recently fitted some very discreet automatically-triggered, solar-powered lighting which we think is very cool.

Just a dozen paces in from the south entrance is the "fly-currant wall". Despite the tunnel being a mere 140 years old or so, the calcium-rich water dripping down the tunnel walls has already formed a stalagmite drapery. This one curiously seems to hold a fatal attraction for flies.

Sladers Leigh borders the old railway and is one of the increasingly rare areas of species-rich unimproved neutral/acid grassland. Over 130 different plant species have been recorded in this relatively small area. We're not too hot on identifying our grasses yet but we thought we'd better make a start with some of the more familiar ones. Ngaio managed to track down Common Bent (Agrostis capillaris) and Common Foxtail (Alopecurus pratensis)

Once we spotted the distinctive single red flower in the middle of this white umbellifer, we started to see more and more of them. A family friend, Angela, informed us that it is wild carrot (Daucus carota). Apparently, the function of the single red flower is to attract insects. After flowering, the umbel shrinks into a concave cup, giving the plant its common name of Bird's nest.

A classic example of our inability to get any sort of clear photograph of the BF rabbits. Aside from their propensity to be the first to run, they seem even more inclined to do so when we point a camera in their general direction. This is so much the case that we're coming to believe that a camera makes an excellent rabbit ward :)

Here, my little white-faced friend hopped forwards just as I pressed the shutter, so that its most distinguishing feature was hidden behind a nettle leaf. It then vanished in the the undergrowth, so no chance of a second go ... not that it would have mattered as the camera wasn't quite focused where I wanted it :)

On the way over to Charterhouse we spotted this small deer, stopped the car and leaned out to take a photo. Unusually, the deer stood still long enough to be photographed. Unfortunately the autofocus was faked out by the intervening grass stalks, sigh.

On the short calcareous grassland near the car park at Charterhouse we found a patch of what we think is Field Gentian (Gentianella campestris). It's described as "locally common in N England and Scotland but scarce or absent elsewhere" so we need to be a bit cautious with that identification.

The heather is in flower at Charterhouse, patches of it stand out amongst the long grasses and are busy with insects. An idea spot for adders it would seem, as we found a shed snake skin here.

At the top of the hill we almost always take a bit of time out to sit by one of the many overgrown excavations; steep-sided, long narrow trenches cut into the limestone, which distinguish the landscape here. It's an nice opportunity to be still and watch as the wildlife resumes its usual behaviour.

We had been sitting for a while when our attention became increasing drawn to a dunnock, who was making persistent and what seemed to us to be agitated calls, all the while flying from spot to spot and then returning to a particular place in the large bramble patch in front of us.

It became apparent that the purpose of this activity was to coax a very recently fledged chick, sitting by some rocks in the bottom of the trench, back to the safety of the bramble patch. Despite the parent's best efforts, which even included bribery with food, the chick, which was quite unsteady and was struggling to negotiate the terrain, kept moving further away from safety, eventually it did manage to hop up on to some rocks, but then lost its balance and tumbled down by the harts-tongue fern.

This went on for quite some time, before, after much agonising over whether we'd be doing more harm than good, we decided to break with our non-intervention policy and lend a hand.

As Graham made a very cautious approach to the chick, the mother flew to a small ash above the brambles. The chick made no attempt to escape and showing no fear at all, simply hopped into Graham's proffered hand. Graham placed the chick in the brambles as close as possible to its parent, who remained in her sentinel position in the ash whilst the chick was being moved.

As soon as Graham moved away, the parent bird flew into the brambles for a moment and then to our surprise returned to her hopping and calling behaviour, this time a few feet further away. Following her, we found another chick, which we also placed back in the brambles with the other. After we withdrew, the mother also returned to the brambles to what we hope was a happy reunion.

We took advantage of a fine day with good clouds to amble up to the Pinnacles, the area at the top of the highest of the Cheddar Gorge cliffs to enjoy the views of the gorge and out to the coast.

Slightly behind the Pinnacles is Clifftop plantation which has a "singing gate" - the fairly constant steady breeze blowing through some empty mounting holes in the steel gateposts produces a gently fluting whistle.

We approach Pinnacles from the east, following the contours rather than crossing them and were fascinated to discover a small ecosystem existing rather precariously in some fast-shrinking puddles in the deep ruts left by a tractor.

On the way back, we paused by King Down farm to get another shot of the sky above this open field with the clouds stretching away to the horizon giving a wonderful sense of space.

Kings Wood has a number of splendid lime groves. This small group marks the junction of two paths running through the wood. At this time of day the sun has moved round to the west and the sunlight comes slanting down through the canopy, backlighting the trees and creating this wonderful mix of light foliage, dark trunks and dappled shade.

This is an unfortunate Privet Hawk Moth caterpillar, clearly a casualty of the cycle traffic on the railway walk. It hasn't been trodden on because the caterpillar is nearly big enough to trip up a small child and is extremely noticeable to walkers.

Unfortunately, some of the cyclists using the railway walk (residents of the area as well as visitors) seem to think that the railway walk is actually a cycle path and can often be found hurtling along a path that in places is only 18in wide.

Sustrans have recently declared this stretch of nature reserve to be part of one of the nation's cycleways, despite the fact that the narrowness of the path fails their own width standards for dual use routes. We can understand their enthusiasm for promoting cycling but feel that they're somewhat out of touch with reality and they should spend more time properly assessing the ground conditions before publishing their maps.

Despite the awful start to summer, the later part has given us some warm, sunny days and this is one of them, so we take a late afternoon walk. Locally the hay has been made and a few bales remain in the field, ready to be transported to the farm.

It's a clear and still evening. In the dusk, the light over the Isle of Frogs and the distant Quantocks is sublime. We extend our walk along the shoulder of Shute Shelve Hill to return home via the allotments that overlook the town and the reservoir with the vale beyond, on the way we are treated to this excellent moonrise over Axbridge and the res.

Peering out of the window at the back of the house, I notice that the extensive yet thin cloud layer is being illuminated from above by the moon. These images don't really do justice to the sweep of the layer, it extended from western to eastern horizon, forming a complete canopy.

On the other hand, the first image does a good job of showing just how insensitive the district council has been in replacing the original soft white street lamps with ones that emit a hideous 360-degree sodium-orange glare --- that's not photographic flash that is illuminating the foliage and the cable, it's the streetlight just beyond the end of the garden. It's almost as though Sedgemoor DC has yet to comprehend what the concept of light pollution actually means.

We were late out for the walk today and on the way back stopped to admire the sunset. At this time of year the sun sets over the Bristol Channel to the west --- as opposed to setting over Cross Plain in midsummer and over the Quantocks in midwinter.

What we now call an Indian Summer used to be referred to as "St Luke's Little Summer" (for a warm spell close to 18th October, St. Luke's day) and today definitely qualifies for one or the other appellation.

It's been a lovely day, but none the less, seeing a Red Admiral sunning itself on a stone wall in the middle of October feels like something of a curiosity, although a moment's consideration reminds us that it's not a rare sight. But it does make for a nice composition along with the reddening vines leaves that top the wall.

The sky clouds up some during our walk, but the sunlight breaks through the clouds to put on yet another fine show over the Isle of Frogs.

(BTW, for completeness, other terms found for an Indian Summer include: St. Martin's Summer, used to describe a warm spell close to St. Martin's day on 18th November; Old Wives' summer and lastly All-hallown summer, which in its own right was also called Allhallow Summer; All Saints' Summer.)

On occasion, we will extend our walk through Kings Wood up the hill and along the contours to Cross Plain. Once we've gained the height, it is really only a gentle amble along the spine back towards Hill Farm and then a short pull up to the trig point on Wavering Down to enjoy extensive all-round vistas.

As Kings Wood gives way to the open ground of Cross Plain, there is a fine grove of sweet chestnut trees with half a dozen of the local squirrels busying themselves high up in the canopy.

We've mentioned the British White Park cattle in previous posts, they are extremely good-natured and are apparently doing a great job in helping to improve Crook Peak's SSSI status (from "unfavourable" to "recovering"). Whilst I was taking this photo, a nearby walker's dog got a bit of a shock when one of the cattle responded playfully to its advance.

Managing grassland is a dauntingly complex task. A small herd of Dartmoor ponies has been recruited to assist with the grazing and they were clustering around the trig point as we arrived. This pony was using the trig point as a windbreak --- the prevailing wind is fairly constant and, if you're standing around at 300-odd metres above sea level with an open western aspect, the cooling breeze quickly becomes a bit nippy, then chilly, then downright cold.

On the way back down we spotted these fungi at the foot of a tree --- if anything screams "Don't eat!", these do. When we later reviewed the images on the computer we realised that the gloss was actually reflecting the trees behind us and the sunset over Wavering Down.

We get the sense that Kings Wood is very sensitively managed, there are some large old tree stumps which have been left for the woodpeckers and to be colonised by groups of fungi. We found this small group growing in a sheltering crevice of an old oak.

Nearer home I spotted these leaf patterns on the pavement. We had had a recent torrential downpour that washed quite a lot of gravel dust off the path, across the pavement and down the road, leaving the pattern of some field maple leaves imprinted in the residue.

It's November and the evenings are starting to draw in. We squeezed in a late afternoon walk and were treated to this rather fine sunset. With the winter solstice not too far away the sun is now setting behind the Isle of Frogs. The mix of cloud types somehow adds to the sense of 'fin du jour' quietude.

Wall and ferns

A hazy Nyland Hill forms the backdrop to this relaxed group making the most of the late afternoon sunlight slanting across the fields behind Compton House at the western edge of the town.

The Spindle is occasionally a small tree up to 5m high but is more often a shrub. There are three individuals along the railway walk between Axbridge and Shute Shelve tunnel. For most of the year they are unremarkable shrubbery but in autumn they produce these ravishing rose-red lobed fruits with orange seeds.

In the small picnic area at the edge of the car park the field maples have shed their leaves, giving us a quintessential autumn experience of shuffling and rustling through the leaves.

The late afternoon sun (our welcome friend) has managed to penetrate the cloud cover and is picking out the autumn colours in the trees at the edge of Kings Wood.

It's not always photogenic, this is what it looks like most of the time.

It's very dim in the cutting that leads up to Shute Shelve Tunnel. The lighting really demanded flash but I didn't want to startle this innocuous little bank vole who was scurrying about in the leaf litter right in front of us.

The valley slopes either side of the railway walk are rise into old woodland, Rose Wood to the east and Kings Wood to the west. This is English Nature's description:

"Rose Wood and King's Wood are ancient woodland sites. Two main woodland types can be distinguished: i) Field Maple-Ash --- Small-leaved Lime and ii) Hazel-Ash. Canopy species include Ash (Fraxinus excelsior), Pedunculate Oak (Quercus robur), Small-leaved Lime (Tilia cordata) and Whitebeam (Sorbus aria). Wild Service-tree (Sorbus torminalis) is restricted to Rose Wood. The understorey is dominated by Hazel (Corylus avellana) with some Field Maple (Acer campestre) and Gueder-rose (Viburnum opulus). Ground flora species include Dog's Mercury (Mercurialis perennis). Columbine (Aquilegia vulgaris) and Meadow Saffron (Colchicum autumnale). The nationally rare Purple Gromwell (Lithospermum purpurocaeruleum) occurs at Rose Wood."

We're do appreciate a colourful sunset and the position of the setting sun in November results in some gorgeous palettes. These images were taken around half past five in the afternoon / evening.

Fabulous light.

We fancied a turn around the reservoir but were late getting out and the so sun was setting as we ambled along the drove road toward the res. These images were taken over a period of about half an hour. Ngaio took the first, we collaborated on (argued over) the second and I stitched three shots together to make the third.

Yesterday's faint breeze was replaced today by a very strong, buffeting gale from the west, so we thought we'd do the res again, just to clear the cobwebs.

We have our back to the wind here and it's a challenge to keep one's footing. The gale is driving squalls before it, the gusts are curling over the wall of the res and are being dashed down hard on to the surface of the water creating these rippled areas that are driven straight out across the res, out of sight in a couple of seconds.

The sun breaks through the clouds briefly to pick out the standing water on the adjacent levels. We're not alone in our enjoyment of the elements and the sheep + walkers shot has atmosphere but the shot completely fails to capture the gale that was blowing right to left across the scene.

The ripples fetch up on the other side of the res ... it's only a kilometer in diameter but the gale is whipping up a lot of "white horses" --- there are some all-but-indistinguishable dark spots in the near distance; they are moorhens, part of a winter flock of several hundred birds.

The afternoon sun is quite low in the sky and a chink in the cloud cover allows a few shafts of sunlight to pick out the colours of the landscape.

Somerset's old name is "Summerset", meaning literally "set in summer". In winter, it's a different matter.

A New Year's day walk to check on the state of play in Sladers Leigh where the spring wildflowers seem to appear first.

Unlike last year, there are no primroses yet. Last year we had been keeping an eye on one that had been blooming in the last week of December but all was quiet this year.

Just beyond the top of Sladers Leigh, where it joins the old sunken coach road, is a bank of snowdrops which are showing clear signs of getting ready for the coming spring.

It's quite dim in the old sunken coach road, the banks are couple of metres high and bordered by ivy-covered trees which cuts down the already-inadequate light, so flash photography is necessary.

The winter solstice has been gone, the afternoon sun is moving back round to the west. There's less standing water than in early December but we're still pathetically grateful for a few brightening rays.

Fortunately, the weather soon brightens up a bit and so do we. In Sladers Leigh the hazel catkins are flowering and at the top of Sladers Leigh the bank of snowdrops is coming along nicely. But ... it's a little early as yet and it's still a bit gloomy down in the old sunken coach road.

The trees in Kings Wood have suffered somewhat from the winter gales and there have been some big casualties. Fortunately, our favourite trees have survived: here's the "not a Dangerous Beech" --- actually a small-leaved lime Tilia cordata, also known as the "Littleleaf linden" in the US. And a cross-section from a major chunk of one of the big beeches that is now unfortunately reduced to just a 20m high bare trunk, ready for the woodpeckers to move in.

We've been eagerly anticipating the primroses. The ones in Sladers Leigh are quite early. Last year we watched one bloom from late December right through to February.

Also, there are several colonies along the railway walk that are just beginning to show evidence of blooms.

For us, identifying fungi is difficult, hit and miss at best as there are zillions of different species. We'll try and patch in the names as and when we track them down.

A sunny Sunday (for a change) so we set off to Sladers Leigh to see how the snowdrops are getting on. In Sladers Leigh itself, the snowdrops have finished blooming, the primroses are in full bloom and the first Celandines are starting to appear.

The bank is bathed in sun and the snowdrops are glowing with light.

My sister Paula recently sent us this splendidly luxurious insectarium. And it has seen its first guest. On my way out, I noticed a tired bumble bee had landed low down on the outside wall of the house. We know that bees sometimes just run out of puff and need to rest, especially when temperatures are low.

With the aid of a handy postcard, I transferred the bumble bee to the "door" of the insectarium whereupon the bee walked straight in and made itself at home. It stayed until the following day's sun had restored enough of its energy for it to be able to fly off.

When I checked, the insectarium was also home to an earwig but I suspect that might be the concierge. The insectarium is now officially called the Bee B & B, or "threebie" for short.

Ngaio's away in Salzburg, organising an exhibition of work so it's just us chickens today. Off to Sladers Leigh to keep an eye on progress on an overcast day.

English Nature's description of Rose Wood mentions "Meadow saffron", also known as "Autumn crocus" and which we have photographed flowering in Kings Wood. This is the spring form - just leaves in spring, the flowers bloom in autumn. Weird.

Ngaio's been keen to spot the first anemone of the year ... this one's a bit nibbled but a welcome sight nevertheless.

A photographer's dilemma: which camera? I took along the Minolta as well as the little Ixus because I expected to do some macro work. I used both, just to get a sense of the differences in the image. This is Common Toothwort and a White Violet.

We didn't expect to see Ladys Smock blooming, its other common name is "Mayflower". It was actually blooming a few days ago, in late February.

Another plant mentioned in the English Nature description of Rose Wood is "Dog's Mercury" and it's also abundant in Kings Wood.

Finally, just to make a point: the Spindle tree is unremarkable for most of the year.

The railway track borders are inhabited by rabbits for much of the stretch between Axbridge and Shute Shelve tunnel. In the border adjoining the horses' field lives a family of rabbits with distinctive white markings, the "BF" rabbits from posts passim.

Recapping: a few years ago, the railway rabbits in the horses' field were joined by a couple of white domestic runaways who interbred with the natives. The offspring were mostly brown with extensive white markings, including a white blaze on the nose. In the three subsequent generations (that we have observed) the extent of the white markings has shrunk and the latest generation has just a splash of white on the shoulder and the blaze on the nose.

Ngaio observed that, from a rabbit's perspective, a white blaze on the nose is somewhat unfortunate and speculated whether the other rabbits called it "Bumface". I'm saddened to relate that this appellation has persisted, albeit abbreviated to "BF".

BF rabbits seem acutely conscious of their high visibility. Where other rabbits often browse openly, unconcerned at one's passing by, BF rabbits invariably either dash for the burrow or hide in the grass. The only way to get a good look at a BF rabbit is through binoculars. That hasn't stopped us trying to get a photo but thus far we haven't been able to get anything usable.

We've been working on the latest BF, who we saw last year as a young 'un, telling him what a fine rabbit he is, etc, etc. This strategy, daft as it sounds, has paid off. BF is now prepared to sit and be photographed. And he is a fine rabbit. Or she is.

Back at the beginning of January, through an introduction made by Rupert Gredler, Helen and I were offered an opportunity to hold an exhibition of our work at Kunst Raum Vierhauser, Salzburg. We accepted the offer almost without hesitation, our only real concern was that the opening date was set for 7th March and we knew, even without our "day jobs", that it would take a lot of effort to organize and publicize the event in such a short time space ... it did!

Eight rather frenetic weeks later and the room was looking great and was ready for the opening night. Our efforts were rewarded by a wonderful (and well attended) evening. Rupert kindly agreed to introduce the exhibition; his speech was thought provoking, considered and affecting.

We have put up a website : www.between-you-and-me.com in support of the exhibition, where the full text of Ruperts speech is available. An english language translation will follow in due course. There are more photographs from the Vernissage and examples of our work on the "BYAM" site.

Special thanks go to Frau Vierhauser, for allowing us the use of her lovely space and whose assistance in hanging the works was invaluable. And to Rupert Gredler, for his support and for his trust.

Even with the success of the opening night, after weeks of work to bring the exhibition in to being it was almost inevitable that some sense of deflation would follow. Helen suggested the perfect tonic : a trip up the Untersberg.

Being on the mountain is an experience that will stay with me for a long time. The incredible views, the clear air and the excellent company. It's a place where you can leave all your worries behind you and revel in the joy of being. To try to summarize into a few short paragraphs, just wouldn't do the experience justice. So I shall let the photographs speak for me.

Thank you Helen.