Here is the view across Thrupp Lake from the far side. The Michaelmas daisies are now fluffy seedheads, and their stalks and leaves turn black.

Here is a similar view from behind the bench dedicated to Basil  Crowley  – Chairman of Save Radley Lakes from 2005 -2010. He used to take photographs around the lakes that appeared on the cards sold to raise funds for Save Radley Lakes.

Another seat has a plaque to James Culling of the Earth Trust, who currently runs the Radley Lakes wildlife area with the support of the Radley Lakes Trust.

There seemed to be more ducks on Thrupp Lake on my monthly walk today. Ducks included mallards and black and white ducks too far away for me to identify.

There were also half a dozen swans.
November has brought rain. The smaller lakes that seemed to be drying up have filled with water, and even the paths in places have filled with water.

There was some blue sky this afternoon as I walked around Radley Lakes. Trees are turning red and bronze.

I wonder how long it will be until the boat house, one of the landmarks of Thrupp Lake, disintegrates. Many large, dark-water birds were fishing in the lake. It is a wonder there are fish left.

The ducks land with a splash, and the water runs off them.

Cormorants are not so waterproof; they hang their wings out to dry after fishing.

The fallen leaves now cover the paths around the lakes.

A tree had fallen over the cycle track. It will be cleared by Sunday when 1,152 runners run by the lakes for the  Abingdon Marathon. Unfortunately, I am away at the weekend, so if anybody gets some pictures, please email them to backstreet60@gmail.com.

After walking around Thrupp Lake, I went by Orchard Lake, which also looks autumnal

as do the Restored Mineral Workings (Thrupp Green ).

Both pigeons and gulls seem to like standing in line together. This gull was standing with some pigeons on the Wilsham Road fence. What was it thinking?

The moment I got near, the gull flew off, and the pigeons remained standing. That helped sort the gull from the pigeons.

I usually cycle to Radley Lakes and padlock the bike near a side gate. This time, there were hundreds of tiny toadstools near the entrance.

Inside the gate were late-season blackberries in the same place where blackberries could be found in July and August.

The first glimpse of water was of Bullfield Lake through trees. Thrupp Lake is more accessible with clearings between the trees. The water first reflected green banks, then as the view stretched to a more distant shore, the water reflected the grey-blue sky and white and grey clouds.

A dragonfly hovered, moved on and hovered again. Michaelmas daisies were in flower.

I was not the only person there, but I was the only person walking alone. I said hello to two couples, the first walking a dog, the next without a dog. The lake does seem to have more visitors since the new car park was added during the summer.

When I got to the wooden walkway over the corner of the lake there were lots of ducks and coots – eating the surface weed that is thick there. With them were younger ducks, their adult feathers showing through the feathers of youth.

Water lily flowers were still blooming in another corner. The water usually laps the platform nearby, but now the water was some feet out and I could step down onto dry mud and twigs without sinking. The water has gone down after the dry summer. I wonder if it would ever dry up completely.

As I looked back across the wide lake, there were far more Michaelmas daisies on the near side.

There were cormorants on the nearest island and even more on the island beyond.

Further on, where the biggest excavated mound rises, a family was out. Dad was with his son, who has a small BMX, and mum was with the toddler, who has a push-along bike and making brrm brrm brrm noises. I climbed and heard more BMX bikes. Later one roared up the steep incline and down the far side.

I walked down to look at Orchard Lake on the far side and saw that it has dried to the point where it could almost be crossed by foot. A single heron was down at the far end.

Walking back, I looked through sedges to the twinkling of bright water where the heron must be. Then back through the big iron gates and to the gate where I left my bike.