When winter returns with those lovely long nights, I must really remember to catch up on the sleep I am missing as dawn’s ever-earlier arrival wakens my furry fiends.
Did I say fiends?
Friends. I meant friends.
Toby’s assault on my scalp can usually be discouraged by wrapping a tee-shirt over my head, though I am apt to also enclose my nose and mouth.
Inevitably, this small manifestation of wakefulness gives Patches her cue.
Not that she needs one.
Often it is the sensation of being licked by her that wakes me. Not the licking, as such.
Just the enthusiasm of it.
Patches is so very determined to groom me, so very certain that I will be so pleased.
And she is the dearest of creatures.
In case I might get back to sleep, I can count on Tinkerbelle to launch a dawn attack.
Eliciting blood-curdling howls from Sophia.
Or hisses from Willow.
Tinkerbelle is all growl and bluster.
When her quarry stands their ground, she flees.
Willow isn’t into fisticuffs. She prefers fancy footwork, rushing past the wicked one and leaping over her to land on the perch where she takes her medicine.
Then it’s out the door with my bucket of seed and a handful of carrots.
At least being up early, I get to enjoy the morning chorus.
“Cark! It’s her! Nuts!”
It’s nice to feel so appreciated.
And to see what happened in the night.
Rain is creative.
Magnifying lenses are so handy for poor eyesight.
And for viewing the tiniest of flowers.
Blue is my favourite colour, so I enjoy the Speedwell which is just blooming.
A tall, thin un-authorised plant (weed) drew my attention, as I had never noticed its kind before.
Having resisted the temptation to re-locate it, I was pleased to see its tiny flower today.
Rockcress or Alyssum
or some sort of Brassicaceae.
There’s always something to see.
If you look for it,