Clouds choke the valley with mist.
The damp of the grass seeps through holes in my wellies.
In the Four Fields, a dog called Tom is being schooled for the nursery trials.
On the top road, two cats scale a wall at our approach. One tail vanishes. The other turns and, from the opposite end of a curved body, piercing eyes watch our progress.
We’re both tired. We choose the short route.
As we wend our way down the snicket, a swinging blue bag of late blackberries grows heavier in my hand at each pause. A seed sticks in my tooth.
I push A Shine Of Rainbows into the dung-spattered postbox. And a birthday card for Vanda.
As the clouds begin to disperse, I tip the black berries into my cherry bowl. Slice in ripe figs. Spoon over just-now-delivered yogurt. Sweeten with toffee stevia.