I shall know a hawk from a handsaw. Indeed I do know that is a handsaw, right there by the wood for the fires. As for hawks, I have not seen any this morning but, the wind being southerly, I shall definitely know one when I see it.
Do forgive my whimsy please; it’s unpleasantly early and I’ve only just now been handed my first cup of tea. Apparently the natives allowed the campfires to go out last night after we went to bed. It seems to have been deliberate, they’re still overset by the mirror. Mr. M is furious, it seems he’s more than partial to having his coffee handed to him first thing in the morning.
The dawn chorus started well before dawn. It wasn’t two tenors and a baritone staggering home, singing below my windows either. It truly was a lovely hour of birdsong but one could have appreciated it more if it had started a little later in the day.
Madison and Dr. James are discussing plans for the day. I should pretend to listen, at least. Do try to avoid the falsummer heat if you can, delicious friends…
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