Biscuit Tin and Turaco

It still looks summery out there, but it's starting to feel quite autumnal. The high temperature yesterday was 68º F (20º C), and I needed a sweatshirt to feel comfortable, even indoors. It's been a cool, rainy summer overall, and some say autumn is coming early and may bring more colorful foliage.

The Russians returned from their holiday on Friday -- turns out they went to Sardinia and not to Russia as I'd assumed. I don't know why I expected them to go home instead of somewhere fun. They're all looking very tanned. I handed off the strawberry seedlings (which I managed not to kill), and I'm happy to be rid of them, let me tell you.

I did laundry and some light gardening and household tasks in the morning, and in the afternoon took Olga to the cemetery, as you can see.

I can't remember whether I've blogged this gravestone before or not -- it's one we always step over on the path, so I see it every time I visit. I think Charles Absalom Bromige is a great name. His poor wife's identity has been swallowed by the earth.

Parts of the cemetery have been mowed, but some areas are still quite weedy. Olga likes to roll around in the long grass (and snack on it).

I found this old biscuit tin on a grave (best before Oct. 19, 2016). I swear it wasn't there a week ago.

Most exciting of all, I heard the turaco again -- and this time, with Olga in tow, I was able to make my way to the tree where it was loudly calling and take some pictures. (The turaco, for those of you who don't know the back story, is an exotic bird from East Africa that mysteriously lives at the cemetery. No one seems to know where it came from or why it's there, but it's been around for at least three years and seems perfectly healthy. It has a leg band, so I suspect it's an escaped pet or aviary specimen.)

These are the first pictures of it I've been able to get this year.

It was way up in a tree that was surrounded by other, lower trees and shrubs, so getting a clear shot was no easy feat. I did finally capture a few good frames. Although the turaco appears mostly green and blue, you can see the hint of bright red beneath its wings. That red is displayed brilliantly when it flies. (I can never photograph it in flight -- it takes off without warning and it's fast.)

It flew to a nearby yew tree. My theory is that it eats yew berries -- I seem to see it most often in or near yews. But maybe it just likes them because they're dense and good places to hide.

Some passersby asked me what I was photographing and by that time the bird had retreated into the interior of the yew, so I couldn't point it out to them, but I showed them on my camera. Like me, they felt a little bad for it, all alone in a strange land with no companionship. Like I said, though, it seems pretty content.

In the evening Dave and I watched a documentary series about Monty Python. I've been a huge Python fan since I was a teenager, when I used to sneak out to the living room and watch it late at night, when it aired on our local PBS station. It's been interesting to watch this series (on Netflix) in which the members of the troupe explain the history of their projects and how they worked together. Everyone imagines they're all best friends, but of course that's not really the case, and it wasn't always smooth sailing!