Today’s been a long day. I got up nice and early, organised with my friend, Emma, when we’d meet to go to Stewart Park on a photography expedition and then I headed to our local duckpond for more photography. Can you tell I like my new camera?

This time round there were no ducklings that needed rescuing but there were definitely some younger ducks that still had a bit of down left. I like to think that three of them were the ones I saved from certain death last time.

My favourite duck was still there too - he (might be a girl, I’m no expert) appears to be a cross between various domesticated ducks, most notably the Call Duck and the Mallard and also he’s mainly white so I’m naming him Snowy. If I could steal him then I so would.

There were a couple of new ducks on the scene too, again, seemingly descended from domestic ducks. It is, of course, entirely possible that last time I went they were just hiding but then again they’re twice the size of the regular ducks there so they’d take some disguising!

Now, Stewart Park’s gone downhill quite a bit since I last went. I remember going there and seeing Highland cattle, peacocks, rheas and according to my mum they also used to have wallabies but I think I was a bit too young to remember them. Anyway, they’re all gone and there’s essentially nothing there any more. I saw goats, deer, one llama, a few birds, a guinea pig and some rabbits - your general petting zoo fare really - and I was rather disappointed by it all.

Still, they have squirrels though; squirrels that are hardly afraid of you and practically pose for photographs. Clearly these squirrels should be afraid though as one we say had had his ear torn off by something and his eye on the same side was swollen.

Oh, and let’s not forget the other ducks. I’m not all that interested in these ducks as they’re not my locals but there were some ducklings there as clearly our screwed weather has affected their breeding - let’s hope they grow up before the cold starts setting in.

I would also like to take this opportunity to moan about buses, in particular Arriva ones. To get to the park I need to get a bus from my house to the bus station and then one to the park so because Emma’s cheap and likes to make use of her student bus pass I decided I’d get a ‘Teesside Tripper’ (what a ridiculous name), which would let me go anywhere in Teesside today in theory. The first driver I showed it to was either stupid or trying to annoy me as he claimed not to know what the damn thing was but luckily I got on the other two hassle-free.

Mind you, I might not be so begrudging of them if they could actually run a bus service. We needed to get the 63, which is the only bus that goes down its route , and there’s one every nine minutes allegedly. Why was it then that we were stood there for at least twenty minutes, both there and back, waiting for one to arrive only for three to arrive at once? I know it’s how the saying goes, “you wait for a bus and then three come along at once,” but surely that’s only something applicable on roads with many different services running along it.

I knew there was a reason I only went on Stagecoach buses.