Dreaming of making hay

As the sun rose this morning

2016_01_16_15

lighting up the northern hills

2016_01_16_14

and as the ducks started their normal round of activity

2016_01_16_13

and the woodpecker tried to eat a whole fatball

2016_01_16_16

the postman brought a strange parcel

2016_01_16_01

which we carefully unpacked

2016_01_16_02

and examined

2016_01_16_03

2016_01_16_05

2016_01_16_06

2016_01_16_07

2016_01_16_08

2016_01_16_09

2016_01_16_10

2016_01_16_11

2016_01_16_12

Last year we failed to get anyone to mow the meadow. ┬áThis year we won’t need anyone else (although, as you will have just seen, ours is obviously not a single grip snath):

Advertisements