As we wander down to the beck, there is one place that I just have to visit. Inevitably this causes dissent, particularly if the weather is bad, which is most days, these days. The problem is, just a little farther along the road there is a small eddy in the weather, a minor whirlpool of clemency in amongst the clash of air masses and the stinging grind of the frozen or semi-frozen delivery of eco-friendly refills for the lakes here in The Lake District. The railway embankment is close by on the left and the field that usually has cows in – but has sheep at the moment, rises steeply ahead of us. At the bridge, the road turns right and makes its way under the tree tunnel and on this side of the bridge there is a group consisting of an ash tree and several hawthorn bushes growing by the waterside. For some reason there is always a quiet spot here, just before the corner. He is in a hurry to reach this sanctuary, while I have important and necessary matters pertaining to my social life to attend to. This results in an unseemly tug of war and makes it hard for me to concentrate.
While I’m in a complaining mood, there is another matter I must raise. I do my best to keep the garden clear of these wretched free-loaders – both bird and animal. That pheasant, for instance and those pigeons. Next door’s cat knows better than to trespass on my patch and that squirrel has had the sharp edge of my tongue on many occasions.
Why. Oh, why then, do they continue to put food out? Can they not see what a problem it causes? Here’s one of the culprits. Caught in the act.