Worcester

A free day, so a trip on the bus to explore Worcester. I dislike most shopping, but managed to find a belt and shoes, locate three outdoor shops and a couple of second-hand book shops: Oxfam of course, and a shop called Snowdrops which sends the proceeds to a local hospice. I prefer Exeter Cathedral for its creamy stone, the space and the light. But Worcester Cathedral has a better class of tomb - notably Prince Arthur's chantry chapel - and a wonderful Chapel of the Blessed Sacrament in the crypt. There was no sign that I could see of the peregrine up on St Andrew's spire, but down by the quay there were dozens of swans, mallards and black-headed gulls in their white-headed winter plumage, attracted by people throwing cotton wool bread of no nutritional value.

I returned to blue sky overhead, and low evening sunlight on the ridge and furrow. A short walk down to the tumble-down bridge led me to consider possible bench placements under the buzzard's tree. There was no sign of the buzzard either, and I haven't seen it for a while. There is a droll line of molehills leading straight uphill from the stream towards the sheep-watering tap. My guess is that the tap or pipe may have a small leak which the moles traced. The sunset over the Malverns was understated, accompanied by cumulus in the east, dark grey below and apricot blush in the sun, and a sliver of moon. I stood and watched as the sun dipped into line of cloud just above the hills, fired the edges and faded.