The Fallen

Things are falling: blossoms such as these from my beautiful Arthurian plant; the huge totem pole remains of the condemned Meadows' trees; the temperature outside ; my weight; His Lordship's crown from a previously well behaved molar; and not forgetting to mention the income of some mothers staying at home to look after their small children.

However with the sun shining and the world looking rather better today, although a little chilly, this is not the time to become embroiled in that particular inequality.

There has been much activity on the tree front in the Meadows during the last two days. Tractors have been brought in to topple the trees previously undressed and left to stand like naked sentinels all around the park.
A noose is tied round the tree trunk and attached to the tractor by a rope. A tree surgeon performs an amputation near the ground, the tractor pulls, and another veteran of many decades falls to earth in a mighty roar leaving a deep gouge in the grass.

I have had cause in the last few days to write an e-mail in French to an organiser of La Semaine Federale in Nantes and am amused to note that if you make the effort to communicate in French, an e-mail comes back in perfect English. It just goes to show.........