Semaphore

It was seascapes who first observed that Gus uses semaphore with his ears. My trouble is that I have not learned to read the signals.

Extract from Gus's Snoutbook.com entry: I do find it disappointing that when I have taken the trouble to learn what human words mean, Dad still can't understand the semaphore signals that I send with my ears. Here I was sat like a statue on the stone plinth on Arnside Knott, and I'm trying to get him to understand that, rather than pointing that thing at me, he should give me the reward for humiliating myself in public.

After this, we started to descend the main track, and I saw something I have not observed before on the Knott: two hares haring around after each other, not boxing as such, but definite Mad March Hare behaviour. Then one of them sprinted along the track in front of us, disappearing stage right, and there in front of us was a stoat, presumably the unwelcome guest at the party who had interrupted their courtship behaviour.

One of the things I like about the Knott, is that despite its familiarity from so many walks, I am always seeing and finding new things. This afternoon as Wifie and I walked Gus through Redhills Wood, I came across a large patch of Herb Paris quite close to one of the main footpaths. I must have walked past it dozens of times before without noticing.

After more photo-editing of Baby Oliver's christening, this afternoon I spent a few hours on the allotment. Alas, it was like starting afresh. After the neglect of last year, the creeping buttercups, docks, nettles and Yorkshire fog have taken over again. The wilderness is always there waiting to reclaim the land.

Dr T approved of yesterday's photo of the Scots Guardsman (or else his sarcasm is more subtle than I am used to). He said that despite being in silhouette the locomotive "is immediately identifiable as a member of the LMS Rebuilt Scot Class". Anyway, I shall add a bit more text to the blip while there is still time.