I decided to do half an hour of dead-heading after lunch. As I have said before - my garden is steep and has several flights of steps which I can no longer negotiate, so I can only manage to dead from the bottom patio. There are two large clumps of very colourful Gallardia desperately in need of dead-heading but I could only manage those dead heads right at the front. Plenty of Osteospermum to dead head right back to the bottom of the stalk and a few other bits and bobs - pinks and the like. As I was quietly doing this I was suddenly aware of a noise like whispering. I looked around and soon found out what it was! The farmer who owns the field behind my garden has obviously decided to cut his losses and do a third silage cut, although I have no doubt the grass would be poor as we have had so little rain. Now that the grass has been collected and carted away from the field, the heifers have been put in to "pike". (this is a local dialect word for clearing up all the patches of grass in the hedge bottom - nothing is ever wasted by a good farmer). A heifer was watching me over the stone wall and chewing her cud at the same time. We had a conversation - well it was a bit one-sided - more of an I talked and she listened sort of thing.
Another lovely animal story out of today's Times - Matthew Parris's Comment article - always one of the first things I turn to on a Wednesday morning. One night last week he was walking late at night from Stepney Green tube station to Limehouse through the quiet of St Dunstan's churchyard in the silence. Then he noticed a man on a late-night walk with his dog. As he watched a fox noticed too and the two animals met in the silence. They had a good look at each other, a good 'doggy' sniff around each other then 'backed off' and went their separate ways. All in the silence of the night.Who knows what goes on in the night around us when we are asleep.
See you on the morrow,