Now this is probably going to sound a bit nerdy. But here goes anyway. At a family wedding recently The Ranger had the pleasure of visiting the seaside town of Clacton-on-Sea, Essex. Needless to say, he took a professional and critical interest in the facilities - after all, he's supposed to look after various seaside areas on the Isle of Wight. When his aged mother was offered a stroll along the esplanade she readily agreed - but wasn't to know that she'd soon have to endure her son tutting at the state of the flowerbeds and poring over the bye-laws signs. Yes, friends, park-nerdery. When I should have been concentrating on wedding festivities, I was obsessing over the details of path surfacing and mowing regimes. Busman's holiday, really.

A stark warning from Tendring District Council at Clacton West Beach

It was actually quite pleasant - if you ignored the booming strains of Chuck Berry amplified from the pier, which - going on all weekend, even at 10 o'clock on a Sunday morning - seemed a little inappropriate. Still, families were already settling in for a day of beach fun, so obviously they didn't mind it.

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By Ruth D'Alessandro, The Wildlife Gardener

The Wildlife Gardener had a strange feeling that there might be something in the henhouse nestbox this morning. How right I was!

Yes, the WG hens’ first egg! For just a second as I opened the hatch, I felt like Howard Carter peering through the hole in Tutankhamun’s tomb: a ‘wonderful thing’.

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By Ruth D'Alessandro, The Wildlife Gardener

In Henmania Part 1 the Wildlife Gardener told us about her plan to obtain some poultry for her garden, and how she got a ramshackle old ark - but no hens. Read on to see whether her new residents will at last take their places!

The ark was mended. 20 kgs of chicken feed, 80m of wire netting, and 9 fencing stakes were purchased. Where were the chickens?

At last, the local poultry farm had 18-week-old point-of-lay pullets available: “You’d better get here early, luv, we’ve had more enquiries than we have pullets.” I hastily dumped the JWGs at school and roared off to Turner’s Hill to join the queue at the farm gate. 08-reg BMWs with chino-ed ex-bankers lined up alongside travellers’ muddy pickups. A gnarled grandfather puffed on a roll-up as a blonde lady in white trousers tried to keep Blaise and Octavia out of the puddles. All walks of life united by one thing: chickens.

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This one's beyond explanation - but that's never stopped us before.

Probably worth watching through to the end. Did you notice the rabbit?

Great news, friends, those crazy scientists have discovered a new type of cloud! Actually, it's not even scientists but some well-meaning amateur who's formed the Cloud Appreciation Society. News outlets all over the world have eagerly fixed on what could possibly be classed as a bit of good news - or at least not obviously bad anyway.

The Telegraph explains:

Experts at the Royal Meteorological Society are now attempting to have the new cloud type, which has been named "Asperatus" after the Latin word for rough, officially added to the international nomenclature scheme used by forecasters to identify clouds. If successful, it will be the first variety of cloud to be classified since 1953.

Well good for them. I'll bet those boffins at the Royal Meteorological Society were delighted when the Cloud Appreciation Society chap floated past, putting them in the media spotlight for a moment or two.

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