A slow, misty drive over Rosedale Head.
Past the Lion Inn, its solitary light pinpointing our position.
Into lovely Stocking Crags Wood with its enrapturing colours
and moss-covered boulders. Very autumnal.
Cleaning up the bird boxes ready for next year’s tenants.
Out with the old nest, just one tiny unhatched egg.
And for the treecreepers and wagtails, new specially designed boxes.
Real des reses.
After lunch, a stroll up to the forlorn Stork House.
Looking to site a box for an owl.
Blue skies, who had thrown back the grey blanket?
So ended a pleasant day in Bransdale.
Time for a snooze on the way home.