The Flying friends were on good form this evening. Three
bats confined their patrol almost entirely to the space in front of me where they
were silhouetted against an area of sky showing between two trees. There they
flew back and forth across my eye line, sometimes diving, sometimes pirouetting,
sometimes doing loop-the-loops, and sometimes darting close and missing my ear
by inches. Then the Tawny Owl flew across the lane and settled in one of the
trees, proceeding to kee-wick and hoo-hoo for quite some time. It was a show to equal anything I might find in a theatre.
I imagine there are those who find bats and owls creepy;
such creatures are the stuff of gothic fiction and horror films. I don’t, and I’ve always been a fan of gothic fiction and horror
films. And I suppose there are others who would consider the spending of a
Saturday evening watching bats and listening to owls somewhat short of
invigorating.
It’s all a matter of what you find invigorating. The Saxons
can frolic in their mire all they like. I’ll take Avalon any time.
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