Just look at the colourful plumage of this bearded tit.  The bright orange bill, the dove grey head and those long black moustachios down over his white breast.  His mantle is a warm russet-orange and his wings are streaked with white and black.  A strikingly handsome bird well-lit on a day of cloudless blue sky.
In spring, he feeds on insects.  In autumn and winter his diet is reed seeds and grit in this feeding tray is an aid to digestion.  The RSPB  entice the birds out of the reeds for us to admire. 

Stepping out of the car at Otter Bank, I heard fieldfare.  For me, the first of the season and always a thrill.  
We headed for Whinfell Tarn and Black Moss Tarn and we heard and saw mixed flocks of starling and fieldfare along the route.  Abundant hawthorn berries were the attraction.  A flock of starling is a noisy, chattering affair and you had to be alert to catch the call of fieldfare amongst them.  The morning grew brighter so sunlight caught the more colourful fieldfare as they flew.

Below the cliff, the hanging wood is a secret place.  Exposed to the south-westerlies, trees lose their leaves quickly. Birch are almost bare,  The last whitebeam leaves linger among  clusters of rich red berries. With dark red hawthorn berries on shrubs rooted in scree.
On a calm October morning the sun illuminates the limestone cliff where it rises sheer from a scree buttress, a focal point.   Trees are outlined against the distant fells. Curves and kinks of the cliff-edge give shifting perspectives along your way.

An inspirational day, at last.  A pacy drama of sunlight and louring cloud, a bombast of cloud that threatened - and held. back.
​Until we reached Kendal Race Course where the clouds unleashed their load. Water streamed down  Brigsteer Road and we reached home, soaked again. Who cares? The morning was magnificent and I have a cache of images to contemplate.  The high drama of cloudscape. 

The River Kent is a short, fast-flowing river which rises and falls fast.  Last night the rain lashed down and trees thrashed about in the wind. Mild enough, but relentless rain.  A gurgling dawn of louring cloud. This morning we will return to the river to see how things are.
The weir below Stramongate Bridge is dramatic, a cascade of amber water with a loud churning of rocks below the fall.  When the river is in spate the shoals of rock and gravels are submerged and the waterbirds seek the shelter of bankside reeds upstream, and of eddies.

Unsettled is the keynote of the weather, through summer and autumn. A weather-motif which mirrors our unsettled politics.  Political turbulence is a distraction from the all important question of the impact of Climate Change and species loss.
So,  carpe diem, seize the day.  Seize the sunrise, a moment of glory. The town below lies in darkness but wildlife is wakeful.  Jackdaws take wing at first light.