In truth the Silly Season has been going on since about December if you are a cold water swimmer. If you are not, you may well have considered it to be silly to swim outside since September, if not earlier. The actual swimming, however, is not the silly part. Welcome to the season of Winter Events, where wetsuits are often banned, but chicken costumes considered perfectly appropriate attire.
This is the Polar Bear Plunge! 2019, at Bude Sea Pool
Polar Bear Plunge! 2019 at Bude Sea Pool
(note: this is all one pic – since they updated the software and I updated the hardware I seem to have a load more pixels to play with, so I thought you might like to see some close-ups since I spent ages putting all this in….)
Close-up detail – the chickens and the tiger
Close-up detail – medals for everyone!
Close-up detail – Lucy, Neptune and the unimpressed dog.
I chucked some branches of cotoneaster horizontalis* in with the chickens. The branches were covered in berries and I thought it might be nice to sit and draw the chickens pecking the berries, everything outside being so frozen it wasn’t muddy for once.
No sooner had I started than Tiberius came up and gave me a through eyeballing. At close range, and while seated practically on the ground, this is a disconcerting look to receive from a large cockerel. I drew him instead.
An Eyeballing by Tiberius, a fine Light Sussex Cockerel
*cotoneaster horizontalis… it’s one of those plant names I love because it just trips off the tongue is such a nice way: coton-e-aster hori-zon-talis. Try it 🙂
Our new cockerel, Tiberius Tyrrol, and two of his wives. He has a variety of wives but it was getting dark, so I could only draw the white ones – the other chickens were beginning to merge into the background. A brief sketch, but Cat-of-the-day has been distracted of late, so I wanted to get something in. Apologies to the wives, I don’t know their names. They have them, but only Tony knows them all.
Cat-of-the-day would like to note the passing of a one Vladimir, magnificent cockerel and in chicken years probably a centurion, who, having survived dog and fox attack over the years, finally fell off his perch today. He was a fine beast, stupid and psychotic, as any good cockerel should be. Though he mellowed over the years he still looked at me with murder in his eye, especially that time in when, in my haste, I fed the chickens while wearing red leather gloves, a thing I shall not repeat in front of a large cockerel.
And to you over the pond, that’s a rooster, I am told….
Cockerel-of-the-day: do not worry, cats will return, but I spent the day at the Royal Bath & West, and there were no cats. There was this rather magnificent cock, though. The label said ‘Old English Game Birds’…. looks better equipped for running than our podgy brood at home.
I thought I’d have another go at drawing the chickens, but then it started to rain, so I went inside where I found Percy apparently losing the battle against the beanbag, which was trying to engulf him! Never got to finish the chickens…