The Edge of the Wold

By gladders

There be giants

I had been wondering where the wood mice are based in between forays to pick up the fallen bird food.  This one is in a crack in the wall that encloses our patio, and it was venturing out as I was potting plants.  Cautious, yes, but perhaps just a bit too bold given the patrolling cats of neighbours that come through here.  Even when Gus joined me, the mouse was still showing itself.  

We were back home after two nights away, an expedition to BW, staying in an empty house and catching up with socially distanced family and getting a few jobs done that have been waiting this last few months.  It felt strange to be venturing more than a few miles from home, the roads still quite quiet.  Back here, in two days everything in the allotment and garden had visibly grown.  The afternoon thunderstorms that rumbled in the distance never arrived.

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