Back in the walnut grove

The roof work has begun. Tiles and seemingly tons of cent lowered down and carted away to the site on the banks of the Arno to be reconditioned. Rain and more rain and more rain to come. The brief summer day of yesterday gone beneath heavy banks of cloud.

I grunted away cutting back endless wild clematis, spindle, bramble, field maple suckering all over the place. Burning and burning as the rain tunred heavier into a murky late afternoon.

Both headlight bulbs had burnt out with the battery change but Matteo saw me right.

A quiet evening catching up with the latest episode of Shetland.