Wordless Wednesday is a simple blog post featuring a photo. It seeks to convey a message, but speaks for itself without using words. Mrs P took this photo of a new moon at sunset during a visit to Yorkshire Wildlife Park in January 2022.
Today, August 8th, is International Cat Day. I don’t normally post to my blog on Fridays, but in order to celebrate this very special day I thought I’d break my own rules for once. Doing so gives me an excuse to share more photos of the cats in my life…not that I really need any excuse! Milky Bar, Malteser and Caramel are irresistibly cute, and as such are a reminder of why cats are so popular in every comer of the world.
Caramel…he may look innocent, but he’s invariably guilty!
International Cat Day dates back to 2002, when it was established by the International Fund for Animal Welfare (IFAW) with the aim of promoting the importance of cat welfare and responsible pet ownership. In 2020 responsibility for the annual celebration was passed to International Cat Care, a not-for-profit British organization that has been working for many years to improve the health and welfare of domestic cats across the globe.
On its website, International Cat Care says
Each year, International Cat Day is an opportunity to highlight important feline-focused topics and raise awareness of cats as a species, sharing our resources and information for cat owners and feline enthusiasts around the globe to support their care for cats.
Milky Bar dozes while Caramel shows off. They are two very different personalities.
The website goes on to explain that this year the focus will be on “what it means to be ‘cat friendly’ – respecting each cat’s unique nature and meeting their environmental and social needs, at home, in the veterinary clinic, on the street or in a shelter. ”
Milky Bar wonders why Malteser is sitting on his seat.
Sounds good, and I particularly like the reference in this quote to the unique nature of cats. Milky Bar, Malteser and Caramel clearly demonstrate this: Milky Bar is cautious, self-focussed and keeps his distance from us; Malteser is friendly, playful and calm; and Caramel is boisterous, mischievous and demanding, suffering as he does from a serious dose of FOMO (Fear Of Missing Out). Between them, the three felines demonstrate perfectly that cats are individuals, each with their own distinct personality and needs. Recognising this is key to ensuring their continued happiness.
Milky Bar chills out.
Although Milky Bar, Malteser and Caramel are not our cats (they live with neighbours further up the road) Mrs P and I will do everything in our power to ensure that they have a great time on International Cat Day. And we’ll do exactly the same the next day. And the day after that too. In my book, every day should be an International Cat Day!
I have written previously about Budge, the cat who spends his days prowling around one of the UK’s finest cathedrals. Built in the Romanesque style, Norwich Cathedral is a magnificent medieval building, so when Mrs P and I – clutching our cameras, of course – made a return visit a few weeks ago, the volunteers on “meet and greet” duty obviously assumed we were there to admire the architecture. They must therefore have been a bit put out by my opening questions, which were “Is Budge here?” and “How’s he doing these days?”
On top of the grand piano, close to the pulpit
Moving swiftly to hide their disappointment at our apparent lack of interest in things architectural or spiritual, the lovely ladies soon regain their composure and update us on the latest news about Budge. We are relieved to learn that the famous feline, who has been a daily visitor at the cathedral since 2018, is indeed prospering. And we’re told he has a new trick – leaping onto the pulpit, and drinking from the priest’s glass of water. Amazing, we say, without believing for a moment that we’ll soon be witnesses to this outrageous behaviour.
Trotting enthusiastically across the cloister
As we wander through the cathedral it doesn’t take us long to spot Budge, trotting enthusiastically across the cloister to greet a bunch of besotted admirers. Budge is a genuine superstar, who even has his own Instagram and X accounts. Lots of visitors to Norwich Cathedral (not just me and Mrs P!) actively seek him out, and like all good superstars he’s never too shy to put on a show.
Revelling in the attention of his besotted fans
After a while however, Budge decides that enough is enough and heads up an unimpressively modern staircase to find himself a bit of seclusion. Even superstars need down time, when they can relax and recharge their batteries before meeting up with their adoring fans once more! We therefore assume we’ve seen the last of him, and head off to the main body of the cathedral so Mrs P can take a few photos.
Taking his leave…time for a rest
And so it is that Mrs P is clicking away happily, wrapped up in her photography, when she lets out a little squeal. She’s spotted Budge, who’s sitting on the pulpit and casually watching the comings and goings of a busy cathedral at the height of the tourist season.
The view’s great from up here
As we watch him we spot a glass of water on a wooden ledge a short distance beneath the top of the pulpit. We’re not the only people who spot him. Pretty soon a small crowd has gathered, keeping a respectful distance while waiting patiently to see what happens next. Having reassured himself that he has the full attention of his audience Budge crouches down, reaches out and dips his paw into the priest’s glass of water, then brings the soggy paw back up to his mouth and starts licking it dry.
Caught in the act. Budge dips his paw into the priest’s water glass, and proceeds to quench his thirst.
Ten seconds later he repeats the process, and then again and again until his thirst is fully quenched. It’s clearly something he’s accustomed to doing regularly. Hopefully the priest is also wise to Budge’s outrageous behaviour and changes the water before delivering his sermon.
Even superstars need a good scratch from time to time!
Having drunk his fill, Budge leaps down from the pulpit and moves away to a nearby grand piano, where he has a good scratch (we all need one from time to time, don’t we?) before settling down to snooze. It’s such a tiring life being a feline superstar. What a cat!
Wordless Wednesday is a simple blog post featuring a photo. It seeks to convey a message, but speaks for itself without using words. Mrs P took this photo of a White-Bellied Sea Eagle on the Arthur River in Tasmania, Australia in 2016.
We broke our long journey to Orkney by calling in on the Lady of the North. She promised so much, a naked, voluptuous goddess sprawling erotically across the Northumbrian landscape. You don’t see one of those every day, do you? But, if I’m honest, there’s much less to the Lady than meets the eye.
The Lady, who is also known as Northumberlandia after the county in which she resides, is the work of American landscape designer Charles Jencks (1939 -2019). He created this effigy of a recumbent naked woman, 400 metres long with grassy breasts 34 metres high, between 2010 and 2012.
To achieve his goal Jencks used spoil from a nearby opencast coal mine – some 1.5 million tonnes of rock, clay and soil – shaping it carefully into the improbable form we see today. Most spoil heaps are an ugly blot on the landscape, so it was good to come across an example of one being put to creative use.
The Lady is the centrepiece of a freely accessible Community Park. Criss-crossed by around 6km of paths, the park is good as a place for a countryside stroll, somewhere to listen to birdsong, to walk the dog or to let the kids run wild. It’s clearly an asset to local people, but for me is doesn’t quite work as a piece of public art.
A view from the Lady’s forehead, down along her nose towards her breasts
The problem with Northumberlandia is that it’s just too big to appreciate from ground level. From the right angle the Lady’s head, which sports a prominent nose, is unmistakeable. Her breasts are also stand-out features, but would you know what they’re supposed to be if you hadn’t seen the site plan? And as for the rest of the body – the arms, the torso and the legs – Mrs P and I strode happily over them, but to be honest we could have been anywhere.
Site Plan credit: Data: The OpenStreetMap communityMap: Smurrayinchester, CC BY-SA 2.0 https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/2.0, via Wikimedia Commons
Northumberlandia is an ambitious project, but really needs to be viewed from the air to be fully appreciated. If only we’d had access to a helicopter for an hour or two. Or better still wouldn’t it be great to be able to grow some wings and fly, and so enjoy a birds-eye view of the lovely Lady!
Wordless Wednesday is a simple blog post featuring a photo. It seeks to convey a message, but speaks for itself without using words. Mrs P took this photo of a Scottish Clydesdale horse on the Ford and Etal estate in Northumberland in 2024.
I was leafing through Mrs P’s immense back catalogue of photos, looking for something to post on Wordless Wednesday, when I happened across some images of what I like to think of as our Great Train Derailment. Travelling in Ecuador in the late 1980s was always going to be a bit of an adventure, but not for one minute did we expect that a train on which we were passengers would unilaterally decide to jump off the rails and continue its journey by bumping crazily down the track bed.
But first, a spoiler alert. Train derailments are a serious business; when they happen, passengers can get hurt. Sometimes people die. I’m pleased to confirm straight away that this was not the case when we were derailed in deepest, darkest Ecuador. No-one on that train suffered more than mild shock and temporary inconvenience due to the day’s events, and, as an unexpected bonus, passengers of a thoughtful disposition took away an important life lesson!
Our primary reason for visiting Ecuador was to take in the magnificent wildlife of the Galapagos Islands, but having made the effort to get to that distant South American land it would have been rude not to check out other parts of the country too. So we began by spending a few days in the Andean highlands admiring Spanish colonial architecture, visiting historic Inca ruins and wandering through colourful street markets, before taking a train bound for the coastal city of Guayaquil where we were due to catch a flight to the Galapagos.
The Ecuadorian railway system dates back to the latter half on the nineteenth century, and was devised to help unify the country by connecting the Andean highlands with the Pacific coast. This was a challenging project, a single track narrow gauge (1,067mm / 3 ft 6 in) railway covering 965km (600 miles) and reaching a maximum altitude of 3,609m (11,841 feet). The railway passes through huge tracts of wild, largely unpopulated country. As such it’s undoubtedly picturesque, but a long, long way from help if something goes wrong.
Sadly, also, the track was evidently not well maintained. Indeed today, most of the former Ecuadorian railway system is permanently closed due to severe flood damage caused by El Niño in 1997/98, and general neglect over many years as a result of the Pan American Highway attracting passengers away from rail to road. With the benefit of hindsight it’s probably no great surprise that, as our little train trundled through the remote Ecuadorian landscape, it jumped the tracks and ground to a shuddering halt, dragging its hapless coaches towards the same fate.
Having got over the initial shock, we passengers were dismayed. We were stuck in the middle of nowhere. It could be hours before anyone in Guayaquil even knew we had a problem, and getting help out to us would take much longer. It looked like we were in for a miserable few days.
The train crew, however, seemed a good deal less concerned. Indeed it quickly became clear that they were prepared for just such an eventuality as they retrieved various pieces of wood and metal from the cab, and positioned them around the wheels of the stranded locomotive. To these they added branches, sticks, rocks and grass collected from the surrounding area, and when they judged everything to be in place they began the delicate process of edging the locomotive back towards the rails, guided by their makeshift recovery kit. After a few centimetres, the wood, metal and branches needed to be re-positioned, at which point the locomotive was started up again.
This process went on for several hours, the crew displaying immense practical skill and enormous patience as they went about their challenging task. Eventually, astonishingly, without any assistance whatsoever from heavy lifting equipment or a rescue team, the locomotive and coaches were persuaded back onto the rails. The relieved and delighted passengers swiftly re-embarked, and our train continued its journey towards the coast.
What an adventure! And what an amazing bit of work by train’s crew. For me, there is a larger life lesson in the dramatic events of that day: life’s journey is rarely as straightforward as we would wish, and we will all get derailed from time to time. The important thing is not to feel sorry for ourselves and lament our ill luck, but rather to look for creative, practical solutions that will quickly put us back on track. Way to go, those guys!
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Postscript – the photos
The photos accompanying this post are scanned from originals taken by Mrs P using a traditional 35mm film camera. You remember those days, the days when photography was a seriously expensive hobby, the days when – after you’d returned from your travels – you sent your precious rolls of film away to be developed and waited anxiously to see if the pictures you’d taken were any good. If our Great Train Derailment had happened yesterday, Mrs P would have taken hundreds of digital images during the recovery process and swiftly discarded 90% of them. But back then, with our financial resources somewhat constrained and the Galapagos still to be visited, she could spare only a few exposures to record this unanticipated episode in the Ecuadorian outback. Hopefully you’ll agree with me that they perfectly capture the drama of what unfolded that day.
Wordless Wednesday is a simple blog post featuring a photo. It seeks to convey a message, but speaks for itself without using words. Mrs P took these photos of meerkats at the Yorkshire Wildlife Park.
I guess that, to the uninitiated, Skara Brae looks to be nothing special, little more than a few stone walls and apparently random piles of rock partially buried in tussock-topped coastal sand dunes. Boring, I hear you mutter. But what if I told you that these are the preserved remains of a stone age village that is older than the Egyptian pyramids, a place that has been described as one of the most important prehistoric sites in Europe? There’s much more to Skara Brae than first meets the eye.
The Orkney Isles, lying off the windswept northern tip of mainland Scotland, are crammed full of important archaeological remains, of which Skara Brae is the most significant. The village is around 5,200 years old, and is therefore from a period classified as the Neolithic or new stone age. It is believed to have once been home for up to 100 people.
The site comprises a grouping of ten structures, including eight “phase 2” stone houses partially sunk into the ground. Their roofs have mostly disappeared over time, allowing the modern visitor to look down from the surrounding banks and see clearly the internal arrangement of the dwellings.
The houses were connected by covered passageways which allowed villagers to move easily between them, while still being sheltered from the worst of Orkney’s weather. This arrangement hints at the challenging existence of Skara Brae’s inhabitants, who scratched a living through a combination of fishing, gathering shellfish and wild plants, cultivating a few crops and raising livestock.
What makes Skara Brae particularly remarkable is its state of preservation. The site was buried under sand for thousands of years, and was only rediscovered in 1850 after a violent storm helped strip that sand away. This revealed the 8 domestic dwellings, each house comprising a single room about 40 square metres in area. In addition the houses each boasted several pieces of stone furniture, including an eye-catching “dresser” – which was perhaps used to display highly valued possessions – two box beds and a central hearth.
Archaeological excavations have also revealed a range of artefacts and adornments scattered throughout the village, including tools, pottery, jewellery, and carved stone objects. There were even some gaming dice, which must have helped keep the villagers occupied at times when the foul Orkney weather prevented activities that were more productive.
Skara Brae was abandoned around 2,500 years ago. The reason is unclear; possibly a single, violent sandstorm made it uninhabitable, or perhaps it was as a result of a more gradual process of migration to another location that offered the prospect of an easier life. We’ll never know for sure, but what the villagers left behind gives modern day visitors like me and Mrs P a tantalising glimpse of day-to-day life in Orkney several thousand years ago, a life that was totally different but no less remarkable than that of Tutankhamun, Cleopatra and their Egyptian pals
Wordless Wednesday is a simple blog post featuring a photo. It seeks to convey a message, but speaks for itself without using words. Mrs P took this photograph from the Bay of Skaill on the Mainland of Scotland’s Orkney Islands in 2023.
Now I'm 64 