Pylons, promises, falcon

I have taken this photograph before from the garden of The Griffin at Fletching. A year ago I think. It shows in the top left hand corner  a crowd of grey  pylons striding towards the downs. Perhaps next year I'll have another go. Meanwhile I wonder what has changed and what will change.

Sometimes I say I'll do something. Time intervenes and I don't get round to doing it. I dislike broken words  in others, even more in myself. A few weeks ago I said I  would let the Friends of Calverley Grounds have some vegetable plants when they were ready for transplanting for their new kitchen garden venture.  Today I remember, ring them up and leave beans, courgettes and lettuce plants to be collected from our front garden. On returning home I find with a small sense of satisfaction that they have gone.

Sitting  with Dearest in the sun above the lawns of Burrswood. A train hisses past in the valley among the trees. A falcon rises on a  spiral course above the wood and circles slowly overhead  against the blue, balancing on the breeze, barely moving its wings.