Richard Bell's Wild West Yorkshire nature diary

The Screech of Doves

Sunday, 15th April, 2007, my mum's garden
Victorian house I’M STILL TRYING to get this combination of Noodler’s Ink and watercolour to work. This isn’t too bad. I think I’ve picked up a hint of the famously ‘permanent’ and ‘waterproof’ fountain pen ink in the sky wash but that doesn’t matter too much as, even though it is a warm, sunny morning, there’s a greyish, washed out cast to the pale blue of the sky.

It’s so warm that it seems surprising that so many trees – I think these are sycamores (right) – are still bare.

peacock Blackbird, great tit and robin are singing. The collared dove’s call isn’t so musical it’s more like the screech of brakes, except not as high-pitched.

A peacock butterfly (left) rests on a white Spanish bluebell.