Way to Breck

At last the wind has gone back to a mere whisper.  CMC took herself off to the darkest interior - Dounby.  She lunched with an ex-colleague and then played badminton.  I walked along to Houton to visit my s in law and Ziberoonie.

The local fauna suspects that there is a hint of Spring in the air.  Snipes were plowtering and poking about in the gutter.  Two hares squared up to each other; curlews bubbled in the background.  The coots were calling from the Bu pond as flashes of greenfinches squeezed out their nasal ‘szweeer’.  All of them carried out their doings without any sign of a job description.  On the way home a sky of a blue even paler than a thrushes egg started to peep through then became a sheet at the top of the Breck Road.

I have no idea what CMC is planning for my weekend - maybe it’s best I don’t know.