Heron on the Kent

This was a late evening blip and there was no time to write much text at the time, so I've come back and added to it.

We went out with Maggie to see a Story Teller in Brigsteer Village Hall. She promised stories to match those of Chaucer, only more sex and less farting. Mags made us a lovely tea (as always) and we went along at 7.30 pm for the performance. There weren't a lot of cars parked, which seemed odd. When we went in the performance had started early, and the audience was arranged around the edge of the room and there was an array of objects including traffic cones and all sorts of things scattered across the floor. We thought maybe these were the props she uses. The audience of about 10 people and four dogs were looking at us strangely. It dawned that we had arrived at the dog training class.

The story telling is on Saturday night, and we can't manage that. Still it makes a good story, and I've already had some mileage out of it.

The heron was on the River Kent, which has nearly thawed since the big freeze yesterday. The thaw has been extremely rapid, and the countryside changed from white to green overnight. I've been trying to get a close up of a heron for months, I had to buy a new lens to manage this.

Sorry Sheila, I changed my mind and replaced the flock of flying swans with this.