A juvenile Tree Creeper inside the conservatory at Montacute House in Somerset ( now of Wolf Hall fame) which we visited with my sister and a picnic on Sunday.
And in the gardens, more falcons on perches in an open tent, shaded from the sun
sitting perfectly still,
waiting to demonstrate their grace in flight.
And the sweetest damsons I've ever tasted from a row of trees in the car park -
just going to waste. Robin reached up with his good left arm to pick them for us.
The apples on the top branches of our tree may go to waste as well as our gardener cancelled this morning with a knee problem. On Sunday evening I took the ladder out of the shed and picked as many as I could without scaring myself from the highest rung. I never knew how scratchy it was in the middle of an old knarled apple tree and how tantalising not to be able to pick the biggest reddest apples aways just a wobble on the ladder and a finger tip out of reach.
A much quieter day than yesterday.... as if all that raging had never been.. or maybe it's been and gone now - washed out of my system. I can't say I've loved myself out of it - just feel calmer. Robin at The Mede for the day....the joy of the vegetables at the Farmers' market....the balm of coffee and company of lovely friends......the satisfaction of making headway with the tax return paperwork for the accountant....mixing up raw chocolate seedy nut bars with dates and coconut oil ( recipe from the Food Babe - a sort of healthy Rocky Road bar) - a not too sweet treat for an emergency snack attack on my supposed to be sugar free diet.
And now I could love myself much more by going to bed.
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