Rejoicing mutually and mutually complaining

An Englishman’s notice of the weather is the natural consequence of changeable skies and uncertain seasons… In our island every man goes to sleep unable to guess whether he shall behold in the morning a bright or cloudy atmosphere, whether his rest shall be lulled by a shower, or broken by a tempest. We therefore rejoice mutually at good weather, as at an escape from something that we feared; and mutually complain of bad, as of the loss of something that we hoped.

Samuel Johnson, The Idler, No. II, in Life of Johnson, Volume 4 1780-1784″ by James Boswell

17 May: I nearly stood on it!

When I arrived at work this morning the duck and drake were sleeping on the grass, opening one eye between them as I walked past. It was a few minutes later that I began readying the grass for a trim and the ducks had waddled off to the churchyard, that I spotted the egg, just in time not to step on it.

The magpie was already taking an interest in the garden, and if he didn’t get the egg, the mower would.

So home it came with me; the freshest, tastiest poached egg I’d enjoyed in years, with a sauce of freshly picked and chopped chives from the raised beds.

Grateful as I am, I hope Mrs Duck finds a safe place to lay the rest of her eggs.

From a Sunday walk in May

Our Sunday walk took us through King’s Wood near Chilham. A graceful beech sapling, and bluebells, the more fragrant after a night’s rain.