(Mostly) water birds

Stourhead, Wiltshire:

 

Mute Swan: Waiting for the eggs to hatch

They've hatched!

Focus on the future

Still signs of the egg-tooth

Coming alongside

Stick close

Bob, bob, bobbing ...

Follow the light

The parents were very confiding, especially considering that they had a new family to look after.  Maybe it was because they have 'known' me for over a year.  Who knows?  Both parents were out on the lake with the chicks and, when they started working their way along one of the banks, I spied my chance, went to a point ahead of them, and knelt low at the water's edge.  The pen was leading with the youngsters and the cob was bringing up the rear at a short distance.  When they came very near, they were too close for a focus!  It was interesting that, when the family had passed my position and were moving away (i.e. I was then 'behind' them), the cob clambered out of the water onto the bank and stood near me.  At no time did he display any threat to me and I kept down low and as 'non-threatening' to him as possible.  I recall talking to him (as you do!).  When the family had moved on he followed on foot and eventually rejoined them in the water.  I felt very privileged.

Robin

Great Tit

Blue Tit

Canada Goose

Coot

"Mum!!"

"Please!!"

Langford Lakes:

 

Great Crested Grebe

Submission:  Female at the nest

Coot

Very first steps

... and the reward

Time to go back to the nest

Carefully now

Mute Swan

Oradour-sur-Glane: 69th Anniversary

This is by way of a change from my usual blogs on wild life.  It might offer, however, some insight into our own species.

I'm publishing this blog on the 69th anniversary of the massacre that took place in this charming French village.  I won't attempt to tell the story here.  Others have done so much better than I could.  Here are two links that will give you the story. 

http://www.oradour.info/ is the official website and contains within it a host of further links.

http://www.nytimes.com/books/first/f/farmer-village.html is an account published as part of a book review in The New York Times. 

I have visited this village many times over the last years.  Despite (or maybe because of) its history, I find it to be a beautifully tranquil location.  A visit there certainly helps support its enjoinder to "Remember".  A visitor cannot but be impressed.

I last visited just over a week ago.  It was a rainy May day (weren't they all!), but the light was warm.  I walked around the old village and took these photographs.

Entering the village from the modern visitor centre

Dentist

Hairdresser

Mason/Plasterer

View NW along main street

Seed Merchant

Broker

Draper

One of the schools

Tramway station

Tramway goods depot

The tramway ran from the city of Limoges and went on to St Julien where it ended.  There are some photographs showing trams accessible via the official website.

Home and surgery of the village doctors  -  father and son.

Post- and telegraph-office

The post-war church in the adjacent modern village seen from the end of the memorial village

Draper

House at the NW end of the village

Looking NW past the tramway station

Hotel restraurant

Garage

Pharmacy

Hairdresser

Bakery

Interior

Detail

Butcher

Looking NW from near the church towards the bend in the main street

An interior

Cafe (almost opposite the church)

A side-chapel in the church

The main altar

A detail from the picture above

Bullet holes in the interior church walls

... and in another side-chapel

Remains of the church bell distorted by the heat of the fire set there

A yard behind the church in the old market area

Looking out to the main street from the side of the church

An interior

A view of the church

 

'Kerbside'

An old well at one corner of the 'fairground'

The church from the fairground

That part of the village cemetery devoted to those killed on 10th June 1944.

'Please do not climb on the tomb where the ashes of 642 martyrs rest'

... and the area of that tomb ...

...  Within the cases are displayed calcinated bones

Monument to the memory of those killed

A distant view of the village cemetery

To repeat the message of O-s-G:  "Remember".

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I have my own memories of that weekend in June 1944, though not, of course, of Oradour-sur-Glane.  My grandmother had just died (on D-day) and my father was returning to France to track down and rejoin his unit in Normandy.  The news of my grandmother's death reached him before his unit was due to embark and, as the secret was now out, he was granted compassionate leave.
His return to his unit has its own interesting story that stands out in stark difference to the usual images of the Normandy Landings.
He had passage across the Channel on a supply ship and landed with dry feet.  (Keeping his feet dry had been one of his greatest concerns for the Landings!)  Once ashore, he hitched a ride to a location near to where his unit was expected to be.  The Military Police patrols advised him to wait at a specified country crossroads for his unit.  Shortly afterwards an MP motorcyclist came back to him and told him his unit had been delayed and would be late for the rendezvous.  However, the MP suggested he get lunch at a farmhouse about half-a-mile away!  The farmer and his family had been checked out as able and willing!  Lunch over, my father returned to the crossroads and his unit came along and picked him up.  They went on their way to what became the Battle of Caen.