Processionary.

Up in the pre-dawn light to talk to the Manhattanites. 'Indictment' the word of the day. 

The largest hare I've ever seen hurtles out of the wild rose bushes that line the track down to the sea. It's so big I think it's a young deer.  Talk about speed.  The family diva belatedly  thinks of giving chase but opts to adopt an attitude that says ' I could have caught that !'

On the beach Sophie glares at the incoming waves. They refuse to be intimidated which means she  returns to the back of the car with wet, sandy, paws.

A bright and warm Palm Sunday sees the town in high spirits. In the morning lots of church going folk with palm fronds - this after all is still the Presbyterian heartland. The restaurants full. The street cafes packed with students and day trippers. 

In the afternoon the towns annual procession . It's a wee bit late starting and the order of the participants seem to have got muddled up but everyone's enjoying themselves - even the three policemen overseeing events.

Mary Queen of Scots wanders by.  Mary's ladies in waiting come over to chat to the family diva. They fail to bring biscuits . A group of singing students are observed ... warily.

Early American colonists - the 'Tidewater' folk - bring up the rear. I have a sneaking suspicion they're somehow out of sequence. Still, who cares if they're sandwiched in between the invention of penicillin and the advent of electric street lighting ?

After all that excitement Sophie returns home and falls into a deep sleep. From the tail wagging I'm guessing horses figure in her dreams.  She wakes for dinner, has a brief walk down to the shore and then returns to her dreaming. A divas life is a constant stream of excitement.

Today looks as if it's going to be as bright and warm as yesterday. Maybe, just maybe, we shall have lunch in the garden.