My oak tree is in full foliage and in today's high winds, is dancing to the the rhythm of the s
ky. Its sinuous movements are almost balletic, even to my cynical eyes. The stresses and strains withstood by this living statue must be enormous. When the wind dies down there won't be a dead leaf or twiglet left on the boughs. It's a self pruning exercise in every respect.
It is the longest day this weekend, marked by gales and persistent rain; more autumnal than summer. Murphy doesn't like the very windy days, I think he's scared of being blown inside out! Whilst fishing the other night, he discovered a new thing to roll in - dead mice. They are not so pungent as his normal choice of 'roll-on' but he seems to get satisfaction from it.
Disaster strikes - my hat has blown away. Not a blown off, roll down the street affair, this was a real, up in the air and gone job. Murphy couldn't find a rat in a jennel, so it looks like I need a new one!
Got my new hat. They have to mould to your head, don't they? It doesn't feel right yet, give it time.
There are a few Mayfly (or should that be Junefly?) on the ponds. Tonight there was a grey wagtail harvesting them. He (or she) did a fair imitation of a helicopter, moping up these very succulent food items. The fish are also taking a few - and they do so with great enthusiasm, they must be very tasty.
Watched a pole fisherman catching carp. I think they were Crucian Carp - beautiful colours and erect fins, not the Gladstone Boy type mouth of other carp. They are more like an ornament than a fish.
Thought for today...
Thinking of the pasture side, your sixties bring wrinkles, hair loss and arthritic clicking joints, but on the other hand: You can pretend not to hear that which you don't want to. You can send the grandchildren home when you are tired and your 'spare tyre' can act as a book rest!
See you,
Buggy Man
