In the Pantiles.
Although I would not describe myself as a birdwatcher - a description which suggests more knowledge and commitment than I have - I do listen to birds and attempt to identify them by their song and appearance. In the Grove, recently I have learnt to recognise certain territories where different species regularly appear. In one tall silver birch there is invariably a great tit, which I was able to identify the other day high up in the branches through the lens of the camera when I zoomed on to it, though I could not have seen the detail (a yellow breast with a bar down the middle) with the naked eye, for it is a very small bird. In the opposite corner of the Grove, a song thrush is invariably in the branches of one of two oaks, singing now, as it is supposed to, in mid-February, a the top of its voice. A few trees away, the ring doves reside. Of one I posted a snapshot, yesterday. I find that the closer you look into the branches of the trees here, and the harder you listen the more there is to see and hear. But clearly for me, it will be necessary to put a name to the many I do not yet recognise.
Although I enjoy taking photographs, I do not and never will claim to be a photographer. Digital cameras make life very easy and their ability to simplify complex procedures for the amateur are remarkable. Even then it has taken me a long time to fathom what the Olympia which I acquired last summer can do with a little prompting. Objects in motion have, until now been a problem, because I have not know how to coordinate speed and aperture appropriately. Now I have discovered that by turning a dial and clicking, the camera will make the calculations and operate the machinery more or less correctly, I can photograph running dogs, flying birds and the like, and I have been experimenting ever since. Nothing very much to be proud of, as I can scarcely lay claim to the art of capture, but there is a pleasure in the achievement.