Last home game of the season versus Morecombe. St James Park full to capacity. A win might have put Exeter straight up. But as it turned out they could only manage a 2-2 draw.
At the end Player of the Season (Jones) greets Hero of every Season (Deano Moxey)
Confounding my pessimistic predictions Exeter have done well, very well.
And if they win their final game away to Rotherham next Saturday they will go up
We need a bit of Deano magic (and Jonesey to keep a clean sheet)
Walking around Stover Park. A bird spotters paradise.
And all the big guns come out (to shoot the birds with)
Is this overkill or what?! (The guy on the left was bragging about how many thousands of pounds his equipment had cost)
I’ve noticed guys seem to go for big cameras; dangling their big lenses everywhere.
And there was me with my diddy little Cybershot!
Doing no harm at all……(Lol)
To Newton Abbot car boot.
A woman was selling scarecrows
Scarecrows are very necessary in this part of the world. To scare off pervs that like doing this kind of thing
Is it sexy lingerie or sexy laundry
The perv that hung them there wanted to know why i was taking a pic. “Cus it looks incongruous” i said.
He gave me a look. An incongruous look.
Or maybe it was leer.
is Dean Burn
on a Sunday afternoon.
I’d just been having outdoor sex in the Spring sunshine.
And now we went down to dip our toes in this golden stream.
One of those “moments”
You don’t see mini’s much these days, especially not red mini’s (maybe you do, and i need to get out more)
This little chap is parked up in our car park.
Wonder who it belongs to?
Somebody interesting.
Living here?!
What’s that out in the Bay?
Looks like 2 seals playing.
I need to go and investigate. Clamber over the rocks to get nearer.
In the gathering gloom, in the magical twilight
anything is possible.
A Monster from The Deep anybody?…..Lol
On the road out to Kings Wood i saw these:
“Sculptural” i think is the word.
Every tree sculpted by the wind into idiosyncratic, individual, form.
Like an installation placed there and shaped there by an artist.
Andy Goldsworthy would have been proud.
Up onto the Dam (Avon)
After a flask of homemade chicken and tarragon soup i took a few pics.
As when i’d been there back in Sept, the silence was palpable – as an absence.
A birdless silence.
Nothing moving – except as shimmers across the water.
Nothing noisy or extraenous to disturb the spaceousness.
Only Sound.
That soup tasted so good.
Dropping off my Fiesta for its MOT i walked past these 2 caravans
They’ve been parked up here for years (for as long as i’ve been MOTing cars with Mike the Mechanic)
Scratching out a meagre mini life.
Who’s in there and how do they survive i was wondering? A homeless old farmhand perhaps? A diehard gypo traveller? A hermit? A wiseman?
The curly woodsmoke puffing up out of the little woodburner made me feel comforted somehow – quietly signaling their non-conforming existence.
Good on.
Returning later on the woodburner was still puffing away.
(Meanwhile the Fiesta failed its MOT miserably and beyond my means to repair. Time to retire it to the side of the road. Part of my mini life)
In Newton Abbot cemetery i saw this
Makes a change from the usual angel sentiments.
This baby girl died during the Second World War aged 6 months.
A little piggy piglet.
I smiled.
(and of course i was sad too)
