Yesterday Mrs Turnstone and I sought the cooling breeze on the top of Wye Downs and were not disappointed. Since it was St John the Baptist’s Birthday, there was a little extra satisfaction in seeing his plant, Saint John’s Wort. You can buy expensive pills made from it that are said to enhance the mood. Perhaps a walk in a National Nature Reserve would be as effective, at least in Midsummer!
These two were in the leaf litter under the sage bush clinging onto that big leaf. No blackbird or thrush around to gobble them up and no crops for them to devour. A few sage leaves went into the evening risotto, and rosemary, but no parsley or thyme!
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.
Will Turnstone 