Wednesday, November 4, 2015
There's a gale blowing from the south. Gusts of up to 100 km/h. Bob heads out of the front door only to be met by a wall of wind. His ears fly up over the top of his head. He gives me his ' Blimey ! It's blowy ' look.
We think its just another windy day. Bob knows differently. He settles down, head out of the door, rump safely inside, nose in the air. This is a wind that's a had long journey from the Sahara. He drinks in the scents of Marrakesh, Mediterranean fishing boats, Spanish orange groves and the dockside in Marseilles. I could swear he's smiling.
And humans think they're the clever ones ?