Above and below

A peerless December day of unbroken sunshine but I opted to work rather than walk so spent most of the daylight hours  cutting, clearing and raking, a never-ending task here. At least I don't have to get rid of the fallen leaves - the wind does that for me.
My only companion was Nest who scampered about the place as I worked and at one point went out on a limb a little too far: I heard the twigs cracking before she regained her balance.
At ground level, as I tugged on a nettle clump, a large white egg rolled into my hand. At first I thought it was a relic of my late ducks but when I felt the soft skin yielding over its gelatinous interior, like a baby's fontanelle, I realised it was a stinkhorn egg. I left it in situ hoping to see it reach its full priapic glory in the next few days.