As I walked out one early autumn morning

The children are scuffing their new shoes through the leaves as they make their way to school.

In the lane, I encounter a pram-pushing mum and her four-year-old, both resplendent in cool shades because the sun is actually shining.

We’ve had April showers in September and the ground is as boggy as you like.

There’s a robin fighting another robin over garden territory. A crushed Red Admiral lies in the road.

In the field, the swallows and swifts gather on the telephone lines, like a musical score to accompany their impending journey to Africa.

The birds buzz me and the dog. They swoop and hoop and holler. Such excitement. We shall miss them.

After all the rain we’ve had, Church Field is so green. I love this field. An undulating, wide open space, surrounded by hedges, and two solitary and wise trees in the centre. The dog loves it too. There’s lots of fox muck to roll in.

The morning sun casts tree shadows along the field’s edge. It’s like an abstract painting. Beautiful.

 

So we beat on, back through the maize and the gate, past the totem pole tree stump with the half moon in a blue sky, up through the lane and back to Tuesday morning bin day.

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