Two Tillys
Friday
The light's golden and it's warm and still. The gorse and blackthorn are full of juvenile bluetits, zizzing and fluttering. On the park I count 39 rabbits, accompanied by a single magpie. A fresh batch of tiny kits emerged last week, and their springiness is delightful.
One jackdaw rootles around in the grass, and a wagtail lands in front of us for a moment.
We meet Tilly, a border collie intent on chasing a ball. She brings it to me twice, and seems as pleased with my rubbish, short throws as with her owner's long, flinger-aided efforts.
The usual chiffchaff is perched in the top of the dead tree, but his twig-neighbour, a robin, is absent this evening, replaced by a wren who hops down into the holly as we approach.
On the way home, in the horse field, I see what I think for a moment is a cock pheasant, but is actually Tilly, our neighbour's tortoiseshell & white cat, keeping an eye on the woodpigeons.
A two-Tilly walk is a rare occurrence, although we do get a two-Bertie walk fairly often, and used to have the occasional two-Alfie walk. The older Alfie, a lovely chap who plodded incredibly slowly but contentedly, is no longer with us. A two-Dexter walk would be quite the adventure, as both Dexters have Strong Opinions.
No swifts this evening, just a handful of martins up really high.