mistle thrush in the morning. cloud breaking up to sunny. blackcaps joined by white throats by the estuary. Italian alder catkins lie fluffy on the floor, willow getting there... sadly a dead fox - how did that get there.
Flies so many flies - house front covered by largish slim ones and one pair of st. mark's flies mating.
A small salad of polytunnel marvels preceded by an ice cream. Oh well.
Most beautiful bright green hornbeam seen from my window.
If only my knees had been up to it I would have walked the estuary to the beach. And to think I thought I could do a breton dancing workshop.
How come some people can bear their ill health with good grace and cheerfulness?