I awoke this morning as the first rays of the sun glinted across a lush rain-washed landscape. It was one of those mornings when you truly appreciate living in Britain. The first real warmth from the sun had arrived yesterday and I managed to go for the morning walk minus any coat, despite a brisk breeze. Whitethroats littered the hedgerows and all seemed well with the world.
Our peaceful sauntering walk was interrupted by a flock of sheep who had decided to take a wrong turning, leaving the farmer behind some distance away. They were extremely interested in the odd woman lying on her side in a ditch.
The farmer eventually arrived to try and move them, but they had ideas of their own and decided to stay put. After watching the farmer struggle for sometime I decided to give a helping hand. I called the dogs to follow and help, but the dogs said "No chance!" I think their upbringing, with a group of sheep and goats who were all blessed with major attitude problems, has left them only too aware of the damage a sheep can inflict. The sheep seem to sense their reticence and take the opportunity to 'have a go'. As one friend put it "You are the only person I know that could walk through a flock of sheep with a pack of dogs, and have the sheep attacking the dogs instead of the other way round!" The sheep did eventually decide to move on and the dogs and I continued our walk.
It is very difficult when you are on your own as you can't look at both sides of the lane at the same time, so invariably you miss something, and frequently it can be the 'best' something. Yesterday I suddenly had the urge to double back on myself and check the other side of the lane that I had just passsed. I was so glad that I did, as there, in amongst the nettles, were the caterpillars of the Small Tortoiseshell, the first that I have seen this season.
While lying on my side in the ditch a strange man went past and laughed at me: there are some odd people in this world! :-)
And then it was time to dash home and expose some of my blubbery white flesh to the warm sun. While lying in a sheltered spot by the hedge, the Buzzard flew into the hawthorn twenty feet behind me. He screeched and screeched at me. I am not sure whether he was expressing disapproval at the vision of my body, or hunger pangs, but if it was the latter, the sight of me obviously diminished his appetite, as he flew away and didn't come back for several hours! If you are new to my blog and haven't been introduced to my Buzzard you can meet him here: http://myworldinphotosandwords.blogspot.com/2010/03/what-strange-behaviour.html