Peahen & mulberries

The title says it all. M's modest garden - so recently a paddock - is now promoted to a Persian paradise worthy of an illuminated manuscript. The peahen pace is unhurried though her neck & beak perform an occasional staccato tap-tap-stab-stab. Where has she come from? How long will. she stay? Answers soon.

I had lunch in garden at Fforest Coal Pit with widowed friend CS & her great pal, former Telegraph mag editor, Emma Soames. CS's new puppy is a Bedlington terrier called Myrtle: enchanting & full of character. I wonder how terriers are around peafowl?