Crows have been busy round here this summer, cawing in back gardens, flapping over roof tops where normally only woodpigeons, blackbirds and magpies venture. The result of their carryings-on, sits on a fence here, looking decidely unsure of itself, probably its first venture out on its own. Its sits posing for a photograph before flying off to occupy an old apple tree..
Shopping this morning in Sainsbury, on a couple of occasions I find myself steering my trolley cleanly but dangerously between another trolley and a shelf. It brings back the thrill of dodgem cars and, subsquently, the even greater thrill of negotiating traffic in jams and queues on my way into work, in London. I must have been the worst of competitive drivers, eager to save a minute here and a minute there, switching lanes, and nosing into momentarily clear spaces, utterly contemptable. In the supermarket, similar behaviour, is not so bad, a venial sin..
This morning I learn of a missing front gate removed by drunkards or thieves from the entrance of some elderly, disabled neighbours. This afternoon, while watering our garden, I come across the gate neatly placed in our side entrance. I carry it back to its owners not without a swagger of triumph. Another case solved by Inspector Plutarch!