Tail-end

I spent the afternoon as I spent the previous one, planting dad-grown lavender in our recently reclaimed rockery. Low-maintenance gardening is an awful lot of work, it turns out.

I managed to disturb a rather massive common frog as I was removing the last piece of remaining turf from the rockery—I wasn't joking when I said reclaimed. I haven't seen a decent-sized frog for ages. It made my day.

By the time I called it a day at 5pm, the tail-end of Hurricane Katia was doing its best to relocate our bay tree to Norway. I sat in the wind for five minutes, admiring the rooks as they tacked in three dimensions into the storm. People don't give crows nearly enough credit for their flying skills: they really are masters of the wind. I could watch them for hours.

But I didn't watch them for hours: the breakers in my cup of tea were threatening to soak me, and I had a bay tree to move into the house.

One thought on “Tail-end

  1. I think that the Corvid family as a whole are pretty incredible and love to watch them. Near our hotel apartment in Kista is a 'gang' of Magpies, who have worked out that the litter bins have lots of tasty fare and so despite the fact that they are covered and have quite small apertures regularly raid them. I have also seen a Magpie jump up every step from the first floor to the fourth floor of a spiral fire-escape. In fact the birds look so intelligent and mischievous that when they lurk around the car park I would swear that they are working out how to break into one of the cars and drive it off.

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