A drink from the bowl at the front door and the irrepressible duo are ready for their morning walk. By a tree stump they stand on their hind legs, tails wagging. Sophie yelps. They've found a fungus of memorable ugliness. Blood red and sweating. Perhaps that should be seeping. Disgusting ! Time to hurry along.
The sunflowers past their peak. At the edge of the village a last field coming into bloom. The farmer harvested wheat one day and cheekily planted sunflowers the next. By the stream a field of very young calves. Their mothers position themselves protectively. Not that they need worry. Bob and Sophie are on their leads and too busy leaping on invisible things in the grass verges to pay any attention to the newcomers.
This is Britain's most popular poem. Here the author reads it. In America it's created the 'red hat' society, which I'd never heard of but has 70,000 members. Its talk of unpredictability, gender notwithstanding, makes me think of the Very Old Farmer who remains in hospital.