The cock crows

I have been feeling the onset of a lurgy for a couple of days and last night I couldn't breathe easily. I dragged myself up to make tea and feed Bomble and gradually began to feel better. I had to be at a small council meeting which blossomed with quite productive thinking.

I then raced home via Waitrose, which is actually our nearest shop, to buy a chicken for our Christmas lunch, a reflection of both our tastes and our pockets. Pip was waiting, having come up from Bristol to say hello, drinking coffee with Helena by the time I walked in the door. We then left him sitting and looking out at our views over the valleys, which he remarked on when we returned, saying he could spend hours there just watching.

I drove with Helena up to the farm shop at Bisley, as we wanted to buy sausages from a local farmer who occasionally sets up their stall in the yard. After buying provisions in the shop as well, I noticed how lovely the sunlight was on the newly fenced chicken run on the edge of the yard. I grabbed my camera and tried to find a way of shooting through the chain links.

From this picture you might think that this cock was crowing because he was restricted and frustrated by being penned in. In fact, the chicken run is very large and only populated by a few special breeds that young Joe has been developing. He seemed in heaven actually, with his girls close by and attentive. They have lots of scratching potential from the leaves and twigs of the beeches under which they live. For food they have a bonus of all the old pumpkins which hadn't been sold at Halloween, spread around their run.