Furry Horse Poo.
It's an absolutely gorgeous autumn morning. I'm so glad to have a day off work to enjoy the beauty of it.
I good reason to be grateful to Stan the dog, he forces me out for walks three times a day. This morning is one of those misty, slightly frozen, sunny starts to the day.
The river and surrounding meadows have a white mist rising giving a mystical appearance to the woods. Above, is a surprisingly deep blue sky and though it's chilly, there is a sense of the sun above. The fallen leaves are a proper golden brown, crispy on top and mushy below. They have a delicious woodland odour. It's so peaceful and pretty here. All I can see are feilds, woods and a scattered couple of farms - one of which has already lit his fire. The smoke is mingling in with the mist, no central heating there I suspect. His farm is smothered with Boston Ivy and it's turned a glorious vivid red all the way up the walls and roof right up the chimneys even.
There's been a hoar frost this morning covering everything with a soft rime. Stan hasn't felt the cold on his feet before. Unsure what it is he's playing safe by bouncing and leaping through the grass - beoing, beoing beoing! Just like Tigger in Winnie the Poo! LOL
Back on the river bank Stan stops to investigate something ahead of me on the river side. When he moves on I can see several scattered white, glittery, furry balls. I discover that it only horse poo covered in spicules of frost. How marvellous to find something so mundane turned so magically beautiful.
I can't imagine ever leaving this place to live anywhere else.
I good reason to be grateful to Stan the dog, he forces me out for walks three times a day. This morning is one of those misty, slightly frozen, sunny starts to the day.
The river and surrounding meadows have a white mist rising giving a mystical appearance to the woods. Above, is a surprisingly deep blue sky and though it's chilly, there is a sense of the sun above. The fallen leaves are a proper golden brown, crispy on top and mushy below. They have a delicious woodland odour. It's so peaceful and pretty here. All I can see are feilds, woods and a scattered couple of farms - one of which has already lit his fire. The smoke is mingling in with the mist, no central heating there I suspect. His farm is smothered with Boston Ivy and it's turned a glorious vivid red all the way up the walls and roof right up the chimneys even.
There's been a hoar frost this morning covering everything with a soft rime. Stan hasn't felt the cold on his feet before. Unsure what it is he's playing safe by bouncing and leaping through the grass - beoing, beoing beoing! Just like Tigger in Winnie the Poo! LOL
Back on the river bank Stan stops to investigate something ahead of me on the river side. When he moves on I can see several scattered white, glittery, furry balls. I discover that it only horse poo covered in spicules of frost. How marvellous to find something so mundane turned so magically beautiful.
I can't imagine ever leaving this place to live anywhere else.