"The universe is such a strange and wonderful place that reality will always outrun the wildest imagination. There will always be things unknown and perhaps unknowable." The late Arthur C Clarke.
This morning against the base of a wall, I spot the remains of a tennis ball. It is cut open and a tuft of its soft covering sticks up like an ear. It reminds me of the West Country, nature photographer, Johny Kingdom, who, the other night on TV, showed how he had cut open a tennis ball and left it suspended in the woods in the hope that a dormouse might nest in it.
In the Grove I meet an artist friend, who tells me that she has been watching a crow chasing a squirrel round a tree. I realize that it is the crow I call Mr Crow, who, as she speaks is waddling across the grass with Mrs Crow not far off. "I've never seen a crow chasing a squirrel," she says. I explain that Mr Crow owns the Grove and has to keep the squirrels and others in order.