There are times when, even for me, as someone who observes with glee the more bizarre aspects of life, a moment arrives when I have to stop, and stare and wonder. Today I had planned to be on the Malvern Hills bird watching for ring ouzels with a couple of chaps. Storm Callum, gale force winds and driving rain had put the breaks on that activity. We cancelled yesterday.
Frustratingly I woke this morning to yes a strong southerly wind, but little rain and temperatures in the high teens. A classic October day during the windy season until mid November. Taking a long long diversion to get the morning papers and bread, I pootled along some of the lanes where I know corvids congregate when it's a bit windy. They were there, swirling and dancing on the breeze like the myriad of golden leaves flowing in rivulets off the trees. And I watched them.
It was later while in a really narrow lane, a lane only just wide enough for the car, I came around a corner and a gateway. It's not often one sees a cow dressed as a Pharaoh in Somerset. I could have looked more deeply into the significance of this golden blue bovine in a field. But do you know what? I don't want to know. It's just being there in that field which is enough for me. A plastic cow, dressed as a Pharaoh, Storm Callum scudding 50mph wind overhead. It made my day.
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