Took the dogs walking and opened the gate to a lovely surprise. The top of a dying fir tree had been blown off. I had been watching this for some time wondering how to fell the tree, but I puzzle no more.
It became the perch for wood pigeons getting friendly with one another, the buzzard used it for spying on prey, and the red kite had a post meal doze on it.
Anyway, to work. I have to be a bit speedy as the river is rising with the overnight rain and I don’t want this whisked away.
Apres le parapluie. Doesn’t make any sense, really, but saying it convinces me I can…
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