|What do you do on a cold and frosty morning... spread yourself about a bit!|
While we were admiring him, a pair of red squirrels whisked by, going from branch to branch along the river bank without touching the ground (the first time we've seen them down there). This afternoon, Tim planted out the last of his rooted willow cuttings, seventeen cultivars and over 100 plants in all. He still has to plant out his marker stakes, cut from our own willow trees and which grew just as well! While I was erecting a meagre barrier to the ragondins composed of blackthorn clippings jammed into the straw, I came across what looked like a hare's lying-up nest (a form).
Then a pair of freshly minted brimstone butterflies zoomed up and down the riverside, such a bright yellow they seemed almost green.
Meanwhile, an orange-tipped bumble bee was getting spectacularly drunk in the crocus flowers. It spent some time in each of the flowers, but never seemed to get any farther, like a toper on market day staggering from one pub to another.
|Hic! Loverly drop o' nectar this!|
When touched, it waved one leg blearily in a sort of "I'm havving a wunnerful time!" way. A riddle from my childhood: what's the difference between a sick elephant and a dead bee? Answer: one's a seedy beast and the other's a bee deceased.
More gratuitous Sparrowhawk shots....
|Warm enough... now what's for breakfast!?|