A walk in the woods with Abel, now 16 months old, is another story. I’d greet all the dogs as a matter of course, but he enjoys them to the point of bubbling with laughter; there is disappointment that the brambles are now bare of blackberries, but even so he (and I) appreciate the seasons; puddles are for throwing stones into and exclaiming ‘splash’, or as near as we can get, while a big pine tree is for hide and seek. Happy Days.
Robin has not come indoors again, but here he is, watching the back door from our old Welsh angel. This stone came from St Tydfil’s churchyard in Wales. I was working on the clearing of this ground some years ago and rescued this stone from the bulldozer and the skip. The angel has guarded our comings and our goings since we moved to this house. If we don’t make a conscious prayer of thanks for God’s protection on our home, we once and for all made a concrete prayer when we put the stone on the wall.
Will Turnstone 