... who loved this spot

We vowed we'd try to get out for a bit if it's sunny on the weekend this winter, even if there's loads to do at home and even if we only get as far as the Downs. So today we went to the Downs. 

And it was a fine day for throwing a ball ... 

... and fetching a ball ... 

... and peeing on trees. 

Aren't we lucky, we told ourselves as we walked to Sea Walls. What a beautiful spot. What a beautiful balmy day. Look, spring's not far away. 

It's exactly two years since the bodies of Charlotte Bevan and her newborn baby were found below here in the gorge. 

And when we turned to walk back to the car we were in the teeth of a bitter wind. 

My grandfather proposed to my grandmother on one of the benches near here, a few days before Armistice. They were married by the end of the week. So I take an interest in the ones that are here now. Most of them seem to be in memory of someone.

This one has a QR code which made me momentarily nostalgic for the days when it was enough to know that someone had loved this spot. 

Thunderlight and Tatty Feathers

Just the most stunning light last night on the Downs, here in Bristol - brilliant colours and the impression of everything being very sharply etched. So if it isn't in my photos, blame me.  

 

 

  

Yeah, very nice and all that, but you could throw the ball!  

  

Photography and the Significant Loveliness Ratio

I have a new camera and it's a digital SLR!  (If you don't know what SLR stands for, it's Significant Loveliness Ratio.)  (And it isn't exactly new, it's new to me. But it kind of feels like an old friend already.)

Here is my first attempt at taking photo.  Somewhat out of focus.  Hmmm. Maybe Dru was a little too close.

Delia's looking grand, though.  

And Mr B has scrubbed up well.  

The next thing to do was to go up onto the Downs and try it out properly. Whereupon it rained.  

And hailed. 

And the car windows steamed up.

There was a brief respite - just long enough for an ice cream at the Sea Walls ...

... secure in the knowledge that I'll be forced to go on a jaunt very very soon to give it a proper try-out, eh, Ted?

All The Colours That Are Black

The Avon Gorge has lost its final rags of autumn colour since we were last there, at the beginning of December. 

It comes to something when the most striking colour in a scene is provided by a crow.  

There are always lots of crows on the promontory of land leading to Sea Walls.  

  

After a lot of running about ball-fetching, Ted was intent on cooling down - and making himelf as dark and mysterious as they are in the process.  Time to head home, methinks.

December on the Downs

No apologies for loving my home city today. 

Something happening on the Leigh Woods side of the Gorge

Looking down to Sea Walls

An abundance of Old Man's Beard this winter.  

It's easy to take a place for granted when you've lived there all your life, but Bristol did look rather spectacular today. This the Suspension Bridge from Sea Walls.   

A crow floats on the wind ...

... then surveys the gorge from a sunny ledge.

Back on the grass a war had broken out between crows and gulls over some scattered bread, which occasioned much flapping about, principally by the gulls ... 

 ... while the crows for the most part stayed put and scoffed. Clever corbies.