Lots of chicks

19th June 08

Murphy and I have just returned from our daily trip out... we saw a pair of ducks - mallards (for a guess) with their ducklings. There was a flock of geese too, Canadian, I think, with four young, then a little grebe with several bumble-bee sized offspring, all merrily eating damsel flies. Damsels are bright blue miniature dragonflies and very numerous. They are a very convenient food source at this time of high demand, which set me thinking: If these dumb animals can raise such large families, why is there such a parlarver when a woman produces a single child? Visits from nursery midwives, health officials, ect., etc. There is none of this social infrastructure in the animal world! To ensure the continuity of their species, they rely on numbers as insurance.

Among the profusion of creatures round and about, the rabbits are making a revival. There are lots of baby bunnies about. They are the distraction that Murphy thinks justifies his deafness and disobedience. Just the scent of a rabbit pushes all training and manners straight out of the window. Away and over the hills in hot, fruitless pursuit, returning to face the music with a grin and a foot of tongue lolling out. What a life!

One thing that town and country have in common at this time of year is the sound of petrol driven lawnmowers. Why do people want to cut grass at the crack of dawn and their neighbours, last thing at night. I don’t think its to spread the pleasure, do you?

In my back garden there is an oak tree, quite an impressive thing, beats Leylondi into a cocked hat. It’s a self service food stall. Acorns to the squirrels and pigeons later in the year. At the moment there are green caterpillars hanging down from the branches on a line, like silken threads. On the ground are a family of fly-catchers - black and white with long tails and a jerky walking gait - Mum and Dad plus four young. As the caterpillars are above the tree, the wagtails walk about eating them. It must seem like the promised land to them. If birds could grin, these would win the first prize.

We are fast approaching the longest day and the summer has made several false starts. At the moment you can almost hear things growing: grass, corn, ducklings and my waistline.

I'm having a course of treatment from a phsio‘terrorist’ - that’s a very cruel therapist, your pain lessens when they stop working on you. I really think that it’s doing me some good; or is that just wishful thinking?

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See you,

Buggy Man