While walking around my village, I spotted a little robin on the iron railings. It rained during the night and again this morning, so the birds look a little bedraggled, feathers puffed up with the damp.
The rain had done the trees a lot of good, and their leaves looked lush along the road. Everything seemed a bit greener than usual, as if it had all freshened up overnight.
This bluebell wood is actually someone’s garden, and it looks lovely this time of year. It’s quiet there, and over the years I haven’t seen any children playing in the woods. If I lived there, even as an adult, I’d still be playing in it.
There’s a lake just down the road, but as usual, the ducks seem to prefer a puddle. They never seem too bothered about where they settle, as long as there’s water.
I like seeing the tractor lines in the grass. They break things up a bit.
The rain started to get a little heavier, so I headed off home before it really set in.
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