Finishing flourish

The day started grim yet again, but Pushka is a creature of routine. When it became clear that she intended to stand by the gate regardless until we gave in, well, we gave in.
Full goretex needed we had a unsurprisingly lonesome amble on the common as rain turned to sleet and the Howgills donned little white caps. Then home to coffee, mince pies and a warm place on the couch.

It looked like being that sort of a day, so I settled down to some writing, Mrs IttH to some study and pooch to snooze. But... by mid afternoon the sky had turned a cheery blue, so with the rest of the team looking too comfy to move I had a little mooch out. Sometimes it's good just to be outside, but my subconscious obviously knew where it wanted to be.

Ive been to see the murmuration many many times now and each time I'm left with both a sense of wonder and of fun. The starlings swirl frenetically in a fluid dance that defies interpretation. Sometimes they separate, there can be a mile between them, yet it's connected, they rush together, morph back into one, twisting and turning... it looks joyous.

As ever I left with a smile on my face, the quiet evening alive to the chattering from a now still wood.