Soldiers

We went to Cardiff on Wednesday, mainly to visit the castle, which we had not visited before. It turned out to have a much more interesting history than we'd imagined, but there was a bonus. We'd forgotten that it was June 2nd - Coronation Day. We were treated to parades and music by the band of the Royal Army Air Corps before Territorial Army volunteers fired a 21-gun salute. As it happened, I'd recently acquired a new camera (the previous one was stolen long ago) and Angela got some nice video footage.

Interesting to think that at one time you wouldn't have caught me anywhere near anything military. These days I feel a vague stirring of patriotic pride at such events. Chatting to three very young soldiers before photographing them standing by their field gun was all very pleasant, too. I think it's called getting old.

Tragedy

Most mornings we go for a walk (even a run, sometimes) round our local lake. It's over a mile in circumference and we usually go round two or three times. The lake has several islands where geese, ducks of various kinds and grebes nest.

Last year a pair of swans nested on one of the islands and produced seven cygnets. One was taken by one of the huge pike in the lake and another was injured by a fishing line and was rejected by the parents when it came back from the swan hospital. However, the parents did very well to raise five successfully and we had the great pleasure of watching them grow almost to adulthood before they flew away to find new homes of their own.

The parents stayed on our lake and returned to their huge nest on the island this year. The cob patrolled the island for several weeks, chasing off any geese that got too close to where his wife was on the nest. Last week the pen emerged from the dense undergrowth of the island with seven tiny cygnets in tow and the proud parents started parading them all round the lake.

But within days, the cob got tangled up in a fishing line, which eventually cut into him. The wound became infected and he was taken off to the swan hospital. Yesterday we learned from other daily regulars at the lake that he had died, another victim of the anglers. We don't know if the pen will be able to cope on her own, as the cob was very fierce in chasing off dogs and buzzards to protect his cygnets.

Of course, it's very difficult to criticise anglers, as their so-called sport is held in such high esteem by so many people and is seemingly immune from the general anger generated by other blood sports. In fact, in the case of modern angling, it's doubly hard to see how it can be regarded as a sport, as the 'sportsmen' seem to spend most of their time asleep in little tents while some automated contraption with THREE lines lies in wait for the fish - and swans and geese.

The lake is artificial, having been created, like many others in Wales, on the site of coal pits that closed during the Thatcher era. They were all deliberately stocked with fish as part of the ongoing campaign to encourage the growth of the wonderful pastime of angling.

Yet another blog!

I can't say I like these ubiquitous off-the-peg blogs, but if it's a way of drawing more attention to my website, so be it!

It might even encourage more people to comment on the website. Many read it but few comment.

I don't think I'll be blogging much about what I do from day to day - it would mostly be a big yawn. Take today, for example - just shopping and surfing the Net ...