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A KESTREL appears across the rooftops, flies over the garden, then hovers over the meadow. Autumn is here officially, but it is fine enough to eat breakfast and lunch outside.
As I cut the lawn I disturb a frog in the border which, in a few lolloping hops, heads over to the pond.
House Martins circle, a reminder of summer; but they're not showing much interest in their nests today.
With a stack of letters to post, I walk across the bridge. A Moorhen stalks through the debris on the silt island with the mincing precision of a schoolmaster invigilating an exam.
As I'm sticking stamps on the post office, I hear of an accident. A driver was turning around his van in a tight corner. Suddenly the van lurched through a wall and stopped, overhanging the pub car park. Luckily he wasn't hurt. He'd been surprised when a wasp flew into the cab.By evening it's the Midges as much as anything else that make us decide to eat indoors.
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