The mild winter we had this year in England made the first spring flowers come out early. Last year, it was about halfway through February when I first caught primroses, crocuses, ranunculi, and snowdrops on camera, as you can see in the blog post I made then: Spring is in the air.
While the primroses were already past their prime, it appeared to be a bit cold for the ranunculi.
The snowdrops were magnificent today.
The best of the crocuses are still to come, followed by the narcissus. It’s so nice to see nature coming back to life…
The bright yellow ranunculi certainly added a cheerful note.
It’s something that I’ve wanted to do for some time: photograph Oxford’s city centre by night. The first requirement, a tripod, was met a couple of months ago.
Last Friday, I finally had the opportunity to take pictures just after sunset. The famous ‘blue hour’ appeared to last less than an hour, but I managed to capture the beautiful dark blue sky just after sunset. And a small sliver of the moon.
The cover photo is of the Sheldonian theatre, with the Bodleian library to the left and the Clarendon building to the right (formerly home to Oxford University Press, today part of the Bodleian library).
By the time I reached the church of St Mary the Virgin, the sky was completely dark. It made the brightly lit tower stand out even more.
It was the strangest of sights yesterday. From daybreak onwards, the clouds had an orange hue to them. As if a thunderstorm was continuously looming. Around midday, the sun was briefly visible and it was as red as you would expect it to be around sunset.
Apparently, the orange sky had to do with hurricane Ophelia raging over Ireland. In England, we had certainly no hurricane-like storm, but it was quite windy.
According to the BBC, dust particles in the air cause blue light to scatter, leaving longer-wavelength red light to shine through. The dust travelled a long way before it reached the West Midlands: it was brought in from the Sahara and the forest fires sweeping over Portugal and Northwest Spain.
Around 3 pm the clouds broke and the orange tint disappeared. But it returned in the clouds around sunset.
On one of my last visits to the Oxford Botanic Garden, the Nicandra physalodes caught my eye. Apparently, the plant goes by a number of English names: shoo-fly plant, apple of Peru, apple of Sodom, and Peruvian bluebell.
I just like the way the plant grows: a single, bell-shaped flower followed by a row of pods. The pods – or calyces – reminded me of their better known, bright orange counterparts: Chinese lanterns.
The Radcliffe Camera is probably one of the most photographed buildings in Oxford. The ancient window panes of the surrounding buildings not only frame the famous round building with its iconic cupola, I think they also distort the view in an interesting way.
The image above shows the Radcliffe Camera, with behind it the church of Saint Mary the Virgin, viewed from the Old Bodleian Library’s Divinity School.
The ivy has gradually changed its appearance over the past weeks. Walls are no longer covered by a dark green curtain. Some have turned red all over. Others show an abundant mix of reds and greens. Yet all these walls proclaim: autumn has come.