“Alright, ruffians! Time to rise!”
Bird seed, carrots, peanuts. Out the door, round the garden. All quiet.
Back indoors, no sign of life, let’s see what’s happening online…
It’s 6 am. Damn.
Even Randy was still dozy.
Could have slept for another hour!
Well, I could have tried.
Getting up an hour early you would think at least there would be a spectacular sunrise.
If it’s to be gloomy, could we please have accompanying rain?
Last night we got lightning, a bit of thunder
Fireworks are illegal.
Not that that stops people buying and selling the horrible things, but I thought: “It’s not July 4th, so…?”
“Has the revolution started?”
Not a serious thought but I often wonder, should the worst happen, what form it would take.
It isn’t something I lose sleep over, but one should never take for granted that life will remain as we wish it.
Why someone would let off three strings of fireworks at 9 pm on an ordinary night (or any night), I don’t know. I hate the wretched, noisy things, mostly because they frighten animals.
Maybe some chap was taking pot shots at cans. The sound is similar and even more unpleasant as it is usually hunters.
Enough of that.
We didn’t get rain, which we sorely need, but we did get a wonderful display of cloud in what we believed was the build-up to a storm.
At 1750 it created perfect light.
One of those evenings when you have to keep running outside.
One such trip I discovered Willow having a tete-a-tete with a groundhog.
“It asked for more carrots.” she said
“Two services a day will have to suffice!”
I’m becoming so hard.
These were clouds with faces.
Very clearly, a sleeping pig!
(Clear to me, anyway.)
A couple of warty noses here.
Figures from the Mad Hatter’s Tea Party perhaps.
When I stand outside in the field, I feel as if I lose myself in the sky, on evenings such as these.
One of the things I miss about flying, especially in propeller driven aircraft, is the delight of being up there among the clouds. Even if it means a few bumps.
The gigantic thunderheads and anvil clouds of the monsoon season!
Passion and drama!
My pilot friends were less keen and later, when the skies became so crowded I wasn’t as thrilled myself.
Especially after I was on a flight that was involved in a (very) near miss on approach to JFK.
When our number is up, it’s up, which I totally accept.
But I really prefer not to be frightened.
So much promise and all we got was three rounds of lousy fireworks!
So who is this man with a big nose?