A Saturday morning walk to the stream. The PONs head off down the hill disappearing into the woods, reappearing then disappearing again. Tails wag. Swarms of dragon flies around at this time of the morning, bursts of lapis lazuli darting in and out of the shade.The beauty of a pair of Kingfishers tadpole fishing in the stream leaves me amazed.
On some parts of the walk where the sun can't penetrate the covering foliage the air is chill and damp. Further down towards the stream the clay hills on either side of the path retain the heat and channel it outwards. 16 degrees on top of the ridge, 25 down here. Half a dozen micro climates within a kilometre of The Rickety Old Farmhouse.
The orchids are finished but there are cornflowers and wild gentians and a score of others with names I don't know.
The wild roses heavy with hips. Their colour this year remarkable for its ruby intensity. In Scotland the farmers would view this as ' food for the birds' a sure sign that a harsh winter is on its way. 'Nature always has a way of compensating '.
An architecturally marvellous mushroom or is it a toadstool ? A full five inches in height. Memorable not so much for its size but for the fact that it's growing on its own. The PONs are quite unimpressed.
Back at the house Bob is loaded into the back of the car. In the back of the car he's at just the right height to remove sticks, burrs and sharp grass seeds. He's covered in them. This has been an excellent outing.
Gannetts en masse : https://twitter.com/HughHarrop/status/884667009107206144