There is something mildly therapeutic about a wet walk. Of course I would not normally choose to have water droplets dribble down my neck from the saturated edge of a woolly hat, or feel damp jeans cling to my thighs under a drenched pair of “waterproof” trousers. However, as a result of acquiring the above dog, I simply have to, and do you know what? I always feel better for the experience…an opportunity to muse on the vibrations of a wet cobweb, the infinite tones and depths of one hue – grey, and of course babble away quite merrily and sometimes quite viciously with only the hills and sheep as an audience. I don’t think they are very interested.
The Geese are in Archie’s silage field. Back for a winter of damp, mud and a few grassy pickings. I wonder if they would taste good…the geese I mean.