Watching cricket on the Common.
They have been selling gardening materials in the Oxfam shop in Mount Pleasant for some time. Today I notice a bag of fresh bat guano. It is described as "100 % pure organic fertiliser. High in microflora + chelates". Apparently it comes from Indonesia. It sounds like powerful stuff. Add one tablespoonful per 5 litres of water, says the instructions. Or add two tablespoons to your watering can, stir and allow to sit for 24 hours." The 650 grams in the bag I bought should last a good while.
An aeroplane noise makes me look up. It is familiar, yet unusual. I step out of the gate into Mount Sion and look up. A spitfire is overhead. It must be rehearsing for an airshow at the former Fighter Command aerodrome, now a civil airport, at Biggin Hill. When I watched Spitfires as a child during World War 2 , they were the fastest of flying machines.. Today's, in comparison, seems to trundle across the sky.
Lucy has answered my Beetles' inspired question, on Compasses , "All the lonely people, where do they all come from"? with an elegant Italian sonnet. I recommend it.
And the engine note I once used to think of as a snarl is more of a drone. Shape's still good, though
Shape still good,as the masthead of you blog clearly demonstrates.
The bit about the guano had me recalling a long ago gardener's prayer that I'd once printed and since sadly misplaced. It was delightfully lighthearted ending with a wish for guano to fall on the garden in the night, a rather rich yet disgusting thought to be left with.
As long as it falls on the right place.
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