This morning we walked to school with an imaginary dragon flying behind us on a string. Little Owl had firm hold of the other end of the string so don’t worry, you weren’t in any danger. He is a silver dragon and is called Rarr. Fortunately he gets smaller as he gets tired so when he needed a lift for the last bit of the journey he fitted easily into Little Owl’s rucksack.
The weather has been crisp and cold here. A nasty easterly wind has been whipping around corners and nipping at our fingers. Every time it has blasted me I have caught the smell of the sea and it has conjured up images in my mind’s eye of fishermen battling the elements out in the grey heaving wilds. From my desk I have been watching a pair of blue tits busily flying in and out of our neighbour’s bird box. It is stationed high under the eaves of his house so there is no fear of a cat attack up there. The seasons are on the turn.
