Swirling

The Boy Wonder had a better night, thank goodness, and thus so did I. This morning he was beautifully cooperative with all our preparations to take him back to Wales, on the understanding that we'd use any spare time we  thereby gained to play hide 'n' seek. My suspicions of yesterday are now confirmed by the round in which he and R came into the snug, where I was sitting in a swivel chair with its back turned to the room, and decided not to find me. "We will have to look upstairs again," he instructed his Granddad, and off they went. R told me later that his seeking then became increasingly wild: "Is she on that shelf...? No. Is she under this book...? No," and so on, until they worked their way back to the snug, and the Boy coordinated a pincer movement on the chair, ending in them both jumping round at me, B shrieking with delight.

Once we'd delivered our charge to his father in Monmouth we felt pretty flat (and in my case, exhausted), so we decided to go into Stratford for lunch. This young swan was taking his bath in the river as we walked back towards Old Town along the south bank, and though I was aiming for dragonflies near the bridge (and got them), I've chosen him for today's post because it's a while since I last posted a swan, and I like the contrast between his forbidding expression and the wild swirl of his wings as he beat them on the water.

Today's extra: the best kind of house guests are the ones who clear up after themselves before they leave. It's funny to remember that it's only thirteen months ago that the Shark could render the Boy utterly hysterical, and crumb collection had to be done with a dustpan and brush. This morning though, the "Crocodile" (close) was his second-best thing after hide 'n' seek.