(no title) via Musings from the Merse
Sweet Smell of SpringThere's a fine brownish haze on the meadow its not from corn as high an elephant's eye but thickly laid excrement aka slurry. The meadow is due north, just beyond the old Glebe field and a soft northern wind is wafting in a sweet aroma, which once into your nostrils tends to stay there like Tom Cat territory marking fluid.And with a northerly airstream forecast for the next few days, the music may die but the melody will linger on. And on.In the meanwhile the in house mouses are already, it seems, starting their preparations for a long cold summer. I had wondered why the wife's store of nuts for No 6 bird feeder was so depleted. The Mices, presumably worried about the possible effects of global financial meltdown have filled the feet of two pairs of wellies with...