Tuesday, August 22, 2017
Decidedly nippy this morning. Angus ventures out and then returns for a sweater to put over his shirt. A foretaste of autumn. Above us the sky already covered with a warp and weave of contrails - aircraft heading due south taking sun starved northern Europeans to the beaches of Spain and Portugal. Crossing them at right angles a dozen early arriving trans-Atlantic flights. They roll in , one after the other, thirty seconds apart.
The farmer next door has started to look after horses while their owners go away on holiday. Three new vacationers contentedly chew away on the lush grass while watching Bob and Angus saunter past.
Bob and Sophie munch on Damsons.
Both PONs are in a good place.