One of those autumn mornings.

‘It was one of those autumn mornings which are devoid of melancholy, when the weather seems to be cleaning its house. A broom of wind sent the clouds above flying briskly and kept the fallen leaves scudding along the pavements, the trees looked as if they were being stripped to let the rains get at them better.’

Rebecca West (1957), The Fountain Overflows

Sunny Green

This is what I see when I step outside the cottage and, well, the title should be plural – greens – shouldn’t it? All those shades of green telling me why I love this land of England. It’s just that ‘greens’ puts me in mind of cabbage, so this title stays singular. So, it’s day two of this Cotswolds staycation and I’m liking waking to the smell of fig tree, lavender and wild garlic. However, I would like to know why, despite the treeness of this landscape, the dawn chorus is far more muted than it is at home, where the sparrows and their mates kick off around about 03:30 this time of year. Is it that urban birds are mouthier?img_0422