Sitting here on a bench in front of our little hobbit house I am enchanted by small birds as they flit endlessly between the trees, shrubs and eaves of the little house chasing each other and the insects they crave. The flutter of wings and patter of feet blending with the constant song from what could be a hundred different birds. Sheep are grazing around us ( and on the roof of the hobbit house) and spirals of sun glazed clouds drift slowly across the valley sky as the sun slowly descends on the far hills. An eagle shrieks nearby and although I cannot see him I know he will be soaring high, hunting before dusk settles. Below us a camper who has parked for the night gently strums on a guitar accompanying and surprisingly complimenting the birdsong.
Pure bliss. Give me warmth, nature and a bench to watch it all and I’m like a pig in mud.
Now, where’s that nice glass of red?
[Posted from Mrs Foggs super cool iphone]