Last night was a beautiful one in our little bit of the Shire. As we cycled back from work, the last of the martins and swallows swooped on sun-drowsy insects, and our dusk walk was soundtracked by the rooks starting their autumn roosts. A deer (chinese water?) was startled from behind a tree and raced across the stubble towards the watercolour sunset. The best was kept for last, however, with the local tawny owls seemingly vying to produce the most perfect 'twit' or 'twoo' to attend our brightly moonlit walk home.
The next couple of days are supposed to continue in similar vein, but such late summer cameos look set to be but a memory by the weekend. 'September man is standing near, to saddle up another year, and autumn is his bridle...'
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