Lost and not found…

I’m sorry to report that I’ve lost it.  Finally, gone doolally, bonkers, unhinged, maniacal, deranged, potty and turned into a danger to Society.  I am willing to be sectioned for my own good.  We have donkeys that we have re-homed, dogs we have rescued, assorted chickens and rabbits that Sandie has deemed to be lonely and in need of accommodation and now I’ve re-pott(y)ed oak trees.  Well, I couldn’t leave them could I?  They would get swept away next winter wouldn’t they?

Each year is different in the country, and last winter the river decided to remove a beach on the bend on which the cottage sits.  This set up a maelstrom of different currents which garnered all the small debris in the river.  A huge floating bed of twigs, leaves, branches, and other bits and pieces the majority of which remained once the flood waters had receded.  The dogs loved it, they could walk on it, and rootled for acorns and other nuts, christened muesli by us as you can imagine.

Then I noticed recently that the remaining debris was growing leaves!  Without being pompous or pretentious we would like to leave the property when the time comes, at least as good as we found it, and part of that is legacy tree planting.  Job done!

Harry

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