When the Beast from the East struck a couple of years ago, the Hebe in the front garden held on by the skin of its teeth. Sadly, it doesn’t seem to have survived the winter this time.
Having had two years to get used to its probable demise, I soon brushed off the disappointment. Besides, last Sunday made up for any lingering negative emotions.
Back in March, when I had collected my spinning wheel (yes, it is mine now, as I decided to buy it from York District Spinners, Weavers and Dyers Guild for a very good price: £150), I discovered a walk along the River Wharfe. I only had time for a short wander on that occasion but was determined to return.
Unseasonal cold and hail did not deter us. The lure for my daughter was a picnic in the car and as always this was fun in its own right. Then we set of.
Being quite gloomy, my shots along the river bank are not worthy of reproduction on this blog. However, when my 14-year-old decided she was too tired to continue, I left her by a stile while I went to investigate a field full of newly planted trees. I couldn’t get close enough to see what type they might be but my curiosity abated and I made my way back to a singing teenager.
I don’t know what she was singing – literally, as I couldn’t actually hear any singing – but it would seem the cows could. They were in an adjacent field, scattered across its four corners when I left her but upon my return they were now all congregated as close to her as they could get.
Now, what does that say?