arachnid, packing,unseasonal

I confess to be being an arachnophobe. This is the second spider which I have photographed recently. Perhaps taking photographs of the creatures is a form of cure. I doubt it, though. The second shot of this one shows it eating a trapped hover fly. I'm glad to say that upon my return to the scene a few minutes later, both the spider and its lunch had disappeared, perhaps down the throat of bird.

A smaller more manageable wheeled suit case means fewer things to take on holiday. As long as I have room for the books, I can squeeze tee-shirts and the like in between. Once, some time ago, on a three-day business trip to Sweden, I left my carefully packed suitcase outside the front door at home, only to discover its absence when I arrived at the airport. A small -shoulder bag, a shirt, a razor, a toothbrush and airport novel, did the trick. "Where's your luggage?" asked my host in astonishment, as I swung my shoulder bag nonchalantly in reply, and I have always loved the idea of travelling light since, though I have not always succeeded.

An unseasonal montana rubens alba clematis peeps out from the top of the the bay tree reminding us of the topsy-turvy times in which we live.