Yesterday afternoon, I noticed the children roundabout had found some branches to play with and they were left lying on the lawn next door. Then when I went to lock up for the night they had somehow ended up strewn about my front garden.
Of course, there is an outside chance the wind could have displaced them. At the same time, my hunch is that they were thrown there.
I wish I’d taken a photograph at the time but, too late, I’d already moved them by the time I’d thought of getting my phone.
In a sense, I’m also relieved that the mystery of the displaced bricks might have an answer, as I witnessed the same children running along the edge of the garden to squeeze past the car, parked close up to the front garden. Quite why they do that is beyond me, but I was a child too once. So until I am close enough to ask them to go round the other side of the car, I’ll let them be.