There is a swarm of school children in blue and grey uniforms in the Pantiles today. They run about, and stand around, and sit and kneel down to write on clip boards. One boy sits in front of the old letter box, which bears the insignia of Queen Victoria. He is apparently writing a description of it. Another shouts: "There are three more things to find." The composite sound of their voices is pleasant, like the starlings the other day in the Grove.
A light breeze rises for a moment and seems to blow at ground level. Dry leaves, with the faintest rustle, move between the feet of lunchers outside bars and restaurants like an army of mice.
The unwanted CDs and DVDs , which I hung up in the vegetable garden in the summer to scare pigeons, has proved unexpectedly successful. The bright surfaces send spots of light running over the beds and up and down plants. Alone among the vegetables, you sense a presence other than your own, which catches you by surprise. What I hadn't noticed until today was the title of one of the CDs. It contains several episodes of the BBC spy series, Spooks.