View allAll Photos Tagged worrying
"Don't worry about the world coming to an end today. It is already tomorrow in Australia." ~Charles Schulz
Figured some of us might need the reminder that we're worrying more than we have to!
Day 335: Found out my Grandpa (on my Dad's side) is having surgery tomorrow. He had some gall bladder surgery last week and somewhere in the course of all that they discovered two tumors on his colon. It appears that they are benign, but the larger one HAS to be removed because it's causing him not to be able to eat. Due to his age (82) and the fact that he has emphysema, he has about a 50% chance that he won't come out of it. I'm very worried about him, needless to say. My Dad says Grandpa's in a great mood, laughing and happy...I can't ever remember him being any other way...he's just such a happy soul. Dad is confident that he'll make it through just fine and I really hope he's right.
Some tiny, sweet little worry dolls...In retrospect, I'm not sure why I have uploaded two of these photos - although they are slightly different, probably not different enough to have them both here!
"In the end, it's not the years in your life that count, it's the life in your years." ~Abrham Lincoln ~
Just three for the many kids I watched having the time of their life's at Fatcat Motoparc last Sunday. These bikes cost about £3,000 to £4,000 pounds, gear and clothing, add another £2,000. Free weekends for mum and dad are zero. What wouldn't you do for your kids?
I had a motor bike once, fell off it three times. My mum couldn't take the worry any more.
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JACKSONVILLE, Fla. (June 1, 2022) – The first vessel in global ocean carrier Sea Lead Shipping Pte Ltd’s new U.S. East Coast container service made its inaugural call to the Jacksonville Port Authority (JAXPORT) today. Representatives from JAXPORT and terminal operator SSA Atlantic presented a commemorative plaque to the crew of the 6,661 TEU container ship Hakuna Matata to recognize the ship’s maiden voyage to Jacksonville.
The Asia East Coast (AEC) service calls the SSA Jacksonville Container Terminal (JCT) at JAXPORT’s Blount Island Marine Terminal every two weeks. SSA Atlantic provides stevedoring services at Blount Island.
The AEC service connects Jacksonville and other U.S. East Coast ports to four destinations in Asia: Nansha, Ningbo, and Qingdao in China; and Busan, South Korea.
“We are proud to add a dynamic and fast-growing company like Sea Lead to our line-up of global ocean carriers who benefit from Jacksonville’s efficiencies,” said JAXPORT Director of Ocean Carrier Development Joyssy Woody. “The new service expands our connections to and from Asia while providing supply chain solutions to meet the increased demand for container capacity, particularly in the growing Southeast U.S. market.”
Nearly $600 million in infrastructure improvements have been recently completed or are currently underway to increase Blount Island’s container handling capabilities. The Jacksonville Harbor Deepening Project was completed through Blount Island in May 2022, providing a 47-foot deepwater shipping channel to accommodate a wider variety of vessels calling JAXPORT from destinations around the globe. In coordination with the deepening, JAXPORT recently completed berth enhancements to enable the SSA JCT at Blount Island to simultaneously accommodate two post-Panamax vessels. Phased yard improvements are also underway to allow the SSA JCT to accommodate more containers.
Located in the heart of the Southeast U.S., JAXPORT is Florida’s No. 1 container port by volume and one of the nation’s top vehicle-handling ports. Jacksonville offers two-way ship traffic with no berth or terminal congestion and same-day access to 98 million consumers.
Once I heard from my dad, I went into this empty office next to mine so I could have a bit of pity party for a moment. There were several times today that all I wanted to do was find a dark corner and just have a good cry.
this is the look of a baby after his mom was forcing him her boob and saying "suck it! c'mon suck it!!" poor baby.
Lamenting Lewis and Clark
This isnt 1803, yet its events past before me today. I had spent most of the week in high anticipation of these early hours of this morning. I knew the tide would be right for a nice kayak trip out to the Cockspur Light. Yes, another one. The weather forcast was right for a nice weekend, sunny and warm. So my hopes of getting the sunrise pictures of the Cockspur Lighthouse, something I had yearned to do was growing close. Reaching the Fort Pulaski bridge at 5:30 was part of the "plan." I would have ample ammount of time to get a nice paddle in, set up my equiptment and be ready at first light. As I drove up to the bridge I saw the flashing Cockspur light and at that point I remembered that it had light now. How I could of spaced that out I dont know. Perhaps the years of excess. :) But it was if I had got a shot of adreniline. I was all of a sudden pumped. I told myself to hurry, lets get to the light and take some pictures of the light close up before light, some good pics of the new light. I was rushing, stoked. I got all the gear ready, my boots on and I even had a large thermal cup of coffee with me for the wait befor sunrise, that is if it made it out without spilling.
The paddle was sweet. Even in the pitch black dark, although I did think about that guy that had died when the whale tossed his boat up north recently. But that passed quickly, what the heck you gonna do? Worry and freak over the unknown? Not! As I got closer to the light I realized that I actually had plenty of time before any kind of usuable light. So I eased off on the muscle power and slow paddled on in to the light. The light was really nice. A lot different than I was use to. :)
I eased the kayak up onto the oyster shells. No beach here. Hell, Im suprised that this boat even still floats. It has more cuts on the hull than the .....you know....the liver pill thing. Lots! Oyster shell has no mercy on anything, especially flesh and in this case plastic. To my total amazement I made it all the way out with all my coffee, unspilled. Wow. I ditched the coat I had on and chilled with the coffee for a moment. Good stuff, and got ready to tackle the challenge of darkness vs camera. This was going to be cool! @*&11%2 What the ____! Where is my tripod? No, tell me I didnt do that?!? Crap! How could I have done that???!!!! _ _ _ _ ! I had the tripod in the truck, in my mad rush at the last minute to get the new light pics, I had just totally space the tripod. _ _ _ _! I had "planned" this all out. I had even packed the equiptment in my new Pelican case to avoid any mishaps. What the _ _ _ _ was I going to do now? You cant shoot "bulb" exposures without a tripod?!? That just cant work.
I wondered around in panic for a bit, trying to think of a way that I could do this thing. This was going to be hell. I set on the steps of the lighthouse and drank some coffee , thought of the paddle back. That was not an option. For some weird ass reason, all of a sudden I thought of Lewis and Clark, the explorers. I dont know why they just popped into my head. I wondered if those guys had issues like this in their "planning"? They were going into the jaws of the unknown, possibly death. Do you know the "planning" they must have done? Wow! And if you've read of or know of Lewis and Clark, you know of the adversity and misery they conquered. I just all of a sudden really admired them like I never had before. I cant even get a little photo project right.
I finally quit crying in my coffee and started my attempt at my project. For what seemed like hours I clicked and deleated, clicked and deleated, deleated, deleated, deleated. I was really frustrated. This wasnt good. With not a single thing to set my camera on, I resorted finally to just laying flat down in the muc, mud, the slime and the shells just to get to where I was at eye level to the camera.
I learned a new respect for the cameras timers today. I sure did. Got lots of practice at focus lock. :) I forced myself not to let the mornings events to ruin what could be some great shoots. Forced the "relax" mode to kick in, and just worked with it. I saluted Lewis and Clark and just got down and muddy with it.
This set of picture, when I get finished wearing out the deleat key on my comptuter, and get them posted are the results of some well laid plans. Ha, ha, ha. :) It beckons back to the Sapelo Island Lighthouse kayak trip and the question: what is a picture worth.
These events are a part of the twenty third day of March, in the year of our Lord, 2007, in the life and times of a photographer<(?).
Some tiny, sweet little worry dolls...In retrospect, I'm not sure why I have uploaded two of these photos - although they are slightly different, probably not different enough to have them both here!
No Worries... that pretty much sums up Henry.
This is Henry's Spot - a narrow corridor between the old dog crate (now neatly packed full of boxes of backdrop fabrics and my bulkier photography equipment) and the rocking chair.
Continue down that narrow path and you'll reach a small cup de sac formed by the back of the dog crate, an unused ottoman, the bookcases, and some rubbermaid bins filled with misc. dog stuff.
At some point Henry dragged an old blanket back there to line his nest.
When we leave the house he high-tails it for this spot while Zachary commandeers the Living Room sofa.
I have no idea why he likes this spot, other than the fact it is HIS spot, as Zachary takes zero interest in it.
Our Daily Challenge - September 4, 2016 - "Hakuna Matata"
Daily Dog Challenge 1770. "Enjoy Life"
Stop on by Zachary and Henry's blog: bzdogs.com - The Secret Life of the Suburban Dog
Jesus said, "Therefore I tell you, do not worry about your life, what you will eat or drink; or about your body, what you will wear. Is not life more important than food, and the body more important than clothes? Look at the birds of the air; they do not sow or reap or store away in barns, and yet your heavenly Father feeds them. Are you not much more valuable than they? Matthew 6:25, 26
But seek first his kingdom and his righteousness, and all these things will be given to you as well. Matthew 6:33
Time then, for a road trip.
And the weather was to be bright, sunny and fairly warm. Until the early afternoon, where at our destination, there was a chance of showers.
Chance.
Showers.
With 150 miles to drive, it was up at five, feed the cats and make coffee. Check on traffic and the weather. Again.
Before setting off at ten past six.
First stop was Tesco to top up the tank, which thanks to the Orange Man Baby costs now £1.50 a litre and will only go higher.
Back onto the A2 to cruise up to the bottom of the motorway, then into Faversham, to pick up my old friend, Andy, as he was to be my travel buddy.
I had to wait a while for him to be ready, I was fifteen minutes early, after all.
Then he jumped in, and we turned onto to the motorway to head north.
Traffic light going north, but busier going south towards Dover. We'll worry about that in the afternoon when we come back.
But for now we were making good time to Gravesend, then onto the M25 and down into the Dartford Tunnel under the river and into the badlands of south Essex.
We had loads of time, so cruise round to the M11 turn off, then round the cloverleaf and back north towards Stanstead.
Amazing how light traffic was, and was lighter once we passed the airport and motored into Cambridgeshire then onto Newmarket and so into Suffolk.
We stopped for breakfast at the services on the A14: sausage rolls and a brew at Greggs.
We had half an hour to go to our destination, and nearly three hours to kill.
So, what to do?
I had mentioned the viewing area at RAF Lakenheath, so we turned north to Barton Mills, then on the Brandon road until we came to the USAF base, which is a little bit of the US in Suffolk.
It seems the fence has been upgraded, and I'm pretty sure there was numberplate recognition cameras around, but we were just going to see if there were any planes to see.
Once we arrived at the viewing point, there were dozens of cars already there, most people had cameras with huge lenses and stepladders so to see further, though still through the fence.
A large military vehicle kept watch on the small crowd. We parked up and wandered about. Some had air band scanners, but the lack of action meant we quickly got bored, so we went back to the car and drove to a nearby village to see what there was to see.
Mildenhall is a large market village, with old houses and a huge parish church.
After driving round the small one-way system one and a half times, we parked in Sainsbury's, where we had two hours free parking.
Andy has his targets, and me mine. So we would meet back at the car at twenty past ten, I strode off towards the church, only to find it didn't open until ten.
So, I walked round the village, took some shots, just to fill the time.
There are plenty of small shops and takeaways, though few customers at half nine even on a Saturday morning, but clearly enough trade to keep them in business.
The modern arcade near the bus station is bland to say the least, but again most units had tenants, and there were a few folks around.
I walked back to the church at five to ten, met up with Andy outside, and so we both found the door to the large porch open.
A warden was inside, though friendly enough, didn't like my suggestion I could walk into the sanctuary of the south chapel to photograph the large memorial on the south wall.
It was a bit frosty after that, though no amount of frost could cool my love of the roofs of the Nave and two Aisles. Carved with angels in the Nave, and hammerbeams with carved figures in each aisle. All wonderful work. I wish I had the big lens, but this would have to do.
We had forty minutes before we had to be at Barham, so we walked back tot he car, used the facilities, and drove the twenty minutes over the other side of the A11, up the dead end part of the old road, through Elvington, now returned to tranquillity now the traffic passes by a field away, before turning right over the fields past flocks of black fleece sheep to the old base, now a small industrial estate with businesses having taken over the old military buildings.
We were here for a guided tour, along with about twenty others from around the country. So we checked in, and Andy went to climb the watch tower. Having climbed them in my youth in the RAF, I passed.
RAF Barnham was the maintenance unit where the UK's first generation of ballistic nuclear bombs were built and maintained.
Blue Danube, a 15 kiloton weapon, as some 7.3m long and weighed 10,000 pounds. Inside were the fissile material, and the gubbins that started the chain reaction after the core had been compressed by high explosives.
The gubbins had a short half-life, so had to be replaced, hence the need for third line maintenance here.
On the site are the prep buildings, storage buildings (hutches) for the cores, as well as messes, barracks, a fire station, MT depot and offices.
At eleven, the tour began. First with a potted history by the son of the couple who bought the site from the MOD in the sixties for twenty grand. To grow mushrooms.
That failed within three years, but parts of the site were leased out as storage and industrial units, and so the base was preserved.
Mostly.
The tour proper began, walking round the entire outside of the site in the end, and into a couple of the buildings, while more of the history was explained.
There are over 50 of the "hutches" where the fissile cores were stored, some have been preserved, many have not.
After about an hour, the sky darkened, and soon the wind picked up and we had to deal with hail and then heavy rain.
We tightened our coats, and the tour continued, as we explored the rest of the site, ending with the storage building for the complete weapons.
It was twenty to two. We were both hungry, and a search of the CAMRA website for a real ale pub took us 12 miles to Freckenham to the Golden Boar pub.
Only one other table was in use, so we had the pick of the remainder, and chose one beside the window which looked out onto a small coartyard.
Soon, two long-tailed tits came to the window, hung from the frame and looked in, each with beaks stuffed with feathers for their nest. Such cute bundles of joy.
The food, when it came was excellent. Burger for me, and hunter's chicken for Andy. Sadly, there was no ale on, and certainly no chance of there being Adnams, which CAMRA had promised us.
We ate our meals, Andy paid, then we returned to the car for the long drive home.
Back to the A11, then onto the motorway and into Essex.
Traffic was heavy, but not too bad. So I cruised at sixty, and while we talked, the car ate the miles up.
Onto the M25, gaps between junctions that took ages to bridge, passed in mere blinks of an eye.
Over the bridge and back into Kent. We turned down the A2, cruising again at sixty for the last thirty miles over the Medway and back to Faversham where I dropped Andy off on the old Roman Road/A2.
Just left me to get back to the A2, then drive back past Canterbury to Whitfield and home. Getting back at twenty to seven.
No dinner for me. But Jools had cheesy and onion rolls, though we both had brews, then a beer/cider as the last sunset of winter time played out away to the west.
I was pooped, so we went to bed just after eight, with no football, there was no distraction, and soon the Sandman took me from this world.
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So here we are in the furthest north-western outreaches of the county, where the towns and villages look towards Cambridge and Ely more than they do to Ipswich or Bury. Mildenhall is Suffolk's biggest parish, covering almost 2% of the entire county surface area. Not a lot of people know that. It includes at least five distinct settlements, the largest of which is Mildenhall High Town. Less than a third of the population of the parish live in the town, so it is an important reminder to family history hunters in particular to remember the difference between a parish and its main town or village. Other settlements in the parish include West Row, where the famous Fen Tigers speedway stadium is, Beck Row, Holywell Row and Kenny Hill. However, Barton Mills, which forms a pleasant southern suburb to the town, is actually a separate parish. Housing estates sprawl along the roads which encircle the air base. The town centre itself is tiny, and might once have been pretty. Unfortunately, half a century of occupation by the American Air Force have overwhelmed the parish and rather worn the town down, although there have been great efforts in the last couple of years to improve things, and the area around the bus station bears testimony to this.
Perhaps because of the rather low key nature of the town centre, St Mary dominates its surrounding settlement like no other church in Suffolk does. You can't help but be struck by the sheer immenseness of the building. It is the biggest church in Suffolk, almost 60m long and 20m wide, with a tower 40m high. Virtually all of it is original, hardly anything of it is a Victorian extension. It is a church of superlatives; the 14th century west window is considered one of England's best, the roof the finest in East Anglia. The church contains Britain's biggest Royal Arms, and you enter through one of the biggest church porches in England - and you will be able to do this, because the church is open all day, every day.
The fact that this magnificent pile is in the middle of a fairly scruffy little town only accentuates its glory. But perhaps it is also that which makes it seem curiously aloof. What you see is largely a rebuild of the mid-15th century, in common with the other great Suffolk churches. What makes Mildenhall special is that the Decorated chancel survives from an earlier building, its flowery east window a reminder of how mystical we all were before the Black Death turned us serious. However, it is deficient of the chancel aisles you often find elsewhere in churches of this size. The tower was completed in the 1460s, apart from the stair turret which rises above the battlements, an unfortunate Victorian addition. If you look up at the tower as darkness falls you will see that there is an aircraft warning beacon up there, a necessary feature on this, the only high building in the parish.
Beside the south side stands the medieval charnel house. This was a necessary feature of any medieval town church with a small graveyard; after thirty years or so, corpses would be exhumed and placed in the underground vault, to make room for more burials in the churchyard. The charnel house had its own chantry priest, who said Masses for the souls of the dead. Charnel houses, along chantry priests, fell into disuse after the Reformation, when there was no longer a theological imperative for their use. In fact, the remains of this one were 'gothicised' in the 19th century to make a picturesque ruin. Another one survives in Bury St Edmunds from the lost church of St Margaret.
The south porch is pretty much Victorian, but in any case it is the north porch which is outstanding. Many Suffolk porches have an upper room, but none are as commodious as this one. It formed a chapel to the Blessed Virgin before the Reformation and was later the town school. The vaulted ceiling of the porchway is of a size and quality seen rarely elsewhere in Suffolk. It is bigger than many transepts. Indeed, I have been in smaller churches than this porch. But the south porch should not distract us from the fine west doorway. You can't help thinking that it was intended to be used as the main entrance. Once you are inside, however, all thoughts of the outside will driven from you by the sheer vastness of the interior. It is tempting to turn your attention immediately eastwards or upwards, but if you turn west and go through the curtains into the space beneath the gallery you will discover a wonderful vaulted ceiling here as well. The two lancet glasses here are probably the best kept secret of the building. They are beautiful, I think. In the gallery above hangs what is claimed to be the largest Royal Arms in England. It is certainly very big, and must have created quite an impression when it was suspended above the chancel arch.
You come to Mildenhall to see the roofs. The most spectacular is the nave roof, but the two aisles are even more interesting and rewarding of time and binoculars. Mildenhall's nave angels are restored, although not as heavily as those at Woolpit. Somone was paid a shilling a day to destroy them in the 1650s, but they have suffered less from iconoclasm than from 18th century churchwardens firing into the air to disperse jackdaws. They are not beautiful like those at Blythburgh, but they are certainly magnificent.
But the aisle roofs are the best in England. The north aisle is the better of the two.The massive hammerbeams are carved with the most extraordinary figures, and you can't help thinking that they don't need to be so big. You're right - in fact, they don't need to be there at all. Both aisle roofs are supported by their own weight on the arcades, and all the hammer beams are false. It did occur to me to wonder for a moment if they had been made originally for a quite different church, and used here instead. Most of the hammer beams feature prone figures with grotesque faces, all of them rather startling. The beams may distract you from the carvings on the spandrels, which are exquisite. My favourites are the Annunciation, the adoration of the shepherds, and St Michael with his dragon.
All the furnishings are modern, and were given by Munro Cautley in memory of his wife. He designed them, and to be honest they aren't bad. Like a lot of his work, they have a flavour of 1930s cinema architecture about them, despite dating from the 1950s, but the carved figures on the bench ends at the far west are super, with St Etheldreda of Ely on one side, and the Blessed Virgin on the other. The font isn't strikingly beautiful, but it does include the arms of Sir Henry Barton, Lord Mayor of London, whose tomb is at the west end of the south aisle. Sam Mortlock thought he might have been the major donor for the rebuilding of the church. Incidentally, it is worth recording that Mr Mortlock was a choirboy here in the 1930s, and his enthusiasm for the building shines through.
There are a couple of significant memorials, one of which is at the eastern end of the south aisle. This is early 17th century, and commemorates Sir Henry North, Lord of the Manor. I was disappointed to discover from Mortlock that the weeping figures are 19th century replacements. The Norths were still around after the Commonwealth, and not in a terribly good mood; Sarah North, wife of Henry Jr, has a memorial beside the chancel arch on which her husband records in Latin that he is Dead while living, oh how hard; you are happy because your life has ended, I am desolate because I cannot die. He wrote the gloomy sequence Eroclea or the Mayd of Honour, and then promptly killed himself. Puts a bit of a downer on the thing, don't you think?
The rood screen now is very different from what must once have been here. The fact that there are two upper doorways to the original rood loft stairs suggests that it must have been a massive affair. The screen you see today is a 20th century replacement. Beside it is the memorial to Cautley and his wife, opposite the North memorials. The Cautleys are also commemorated (and buried) at Westerfield, across the county.
It is easier to be grand in Perpendicular than it is in Decorated. Because of this, I think that the chancel is really rather splendid, and often overlooked except for the window. Mortlock calls our attention to a graveslab in Lombardic script in the sanctuary. It remembers Ricardus de Wichforde who made this new work. He it is we have to thank for the wonderful window tracery. To imagine it with its original glass is to recall and regret how much we have lost.
Simon Knott, October 2011
This just might be the home you have been waiting for - a spacious, well maintained home in Florida Park near UF Campus. Walk or bike to campus, enjoy local restaurants, stores, and never worry about game day parking again.
Floorplan and details at
The Small Tortoiseshell is one of our most-familiar butterflies, appearing in gardens throughout the British Isles. Unfortunately, this butterfly has suffered a worrying decline, especially in the south, over the last few years.
This butterfly has always fluctuated in numbers, but the cause of the most-recent decline is not yet known, although various theories have been proposed. One is the increasing presence of a particular parasitic fly, Sturmia bella, due to global warming - this species being common on the continent. The fly lays its eggs on leaves of the foodplant, close to where larvae are feeding. The tiny eggs are then eaten whole by the larvae and the grubs that emerge feed on the insides of their host, avoiding the vital organs. A fly grub eventually kills its host and emerges from either the fully-grown larva or pupa before itself pupating. Although the fly attacks related species, such as the Peacock and Red Admiral, it is believed that the lifecycle of the Small Tortoiseshell is better-synchronised with that of the fly and it is therefore more prone to parasitism.
Distribution
This is one of our most widespread butterflies, occurring throughout the British Isles, including the Orkneys and Shetlands.
Annual Cycle
The adult butterflies can be seen at any time of the year, even on the last days of December or first days of January if the temperature is high enough to wake them from hibernation. However, adults normally emerge from hibernation at the end of March and start of April. There are typically 2 broods each year, except in the north, where there is usually only a single brood. Whether single or double-brooded, the butterfly is a familiar sight in late summer as it takes nectar to build up essential fats in preparation for hibernation.
Habitat
This butterfly can turn up almost anywhere, from city centres to mountain tops. As such, it is one of our most successful butterflies. It is most-often seen, however, where nettles grow in abundance, such as field margins. This butterfly is often encountered while hibernating in an outbuilding, such as a garage, shed or barn, where they may be found in the company of other individuals. Other hibernation sites include hollow trees and wood piles.
Larval Foodplants
The primary larval foodplants are Common Nettle (Urtica dioica) and Small Nettle (Urtica urens).
Nectar Sources
Adults feed primarily on Betony (Stachys officinalis), Bramble (Rubus fruticosus agg.), Carline Thistle (Carlina vulgaris), Dandelion (Taraxacum agg.), Devil's-bit Scabious (Succisa pratensis), Field Scabious (Knautia arvensis), Greater Stitchwort (Stellaria holostea), Hawkweeds (Hieracium/Hypochoeris), Heather (Calluna vulgaris / Erica spp.), Hemp Agrimony (Eupatorium cannabinum), Ivy (Hedera helix), Knapweeds (Centaurea spp.), Marjoram (Origanum vulgare), Primrose (Primula vulgaris), Privet (Ligustrum vulgare), Ragwort (Senecio jacobaea), Thistles (Cirsium spp. and Carduus spp.), Thyme (Thymus polytrichus) and Water Mint (Mentha aquatica).
Imago
The two sexes are almost identical in appearance, with the distinctive yellow and orange uppersides providing a contrast with the drab undersides that provide the butterfly a good deal of camouflage when hibernating.
In the afternoon, males set up territories, usually close to a nettle patch, where they rest of the foodplant or ground with their wings open, waiting for a passing female. When a female enters the territory, a most curious courtship begins. The male approaches the female from behind and starts to "drum" his antennae on the hindwings of the female, making a feint sound that is audible to the human ear. The female may fly a little distance, with the male following, where the process repeats. This can go on for several hours with the couple spending a good amount of time basking together. Eventually, usually in early evening, the female will lead the male into vegetation, often a nettle patch, and crawl between stems with the male following, where they eventually mate. They remain coupled until the following morning.
Found a spot today where a pair of Swans have made their nest, looks to be one egg in the nest at the moment..! I took 148 shots, most were pretty mediocre, I;m going to return soon and try for some better snaps..!
“The way I’d describe it is that I would fall asleep worrying about something. I’d wake up worrying and then spend the whole day worrying. No matter how hard I tried to get rid of the thoughts, they didn’t go away. The more worried I was, the more anxious I became. It was an endless cycle. I was diagnosed as pure OCD. I didn’t have any compulsions, so it wasn’t physically noticeable. Which is why I suffered for years without seeking help. I had trouble concentrating at school. But I asked for help and finally got better. I managed to finish and come to study abroad. I’m from Latvia. There is no real awareness of mental health there. When I first arrived at the university here I had a leaflet handed to me about mental health. OCD was mentioned on there. I thought that was fantastic. It was such a relief to know that it was recognised. And I wasn’t alone.”