Pigs Can Fly

This morning was again sunless, but this time rainless, as Jackie and I once more filled our Modus with soggy garden refuse which we unloaded at Efford Recycling Centre (otherwise known as the dump) and continued on a forest drive.

We turned left off Camden Lane into

another, which soon ran alongside private woodland. Clearly we were lucky to have progressed along this route, for a large tree had recently fallen across it.

Some pig farmers, responding to the early fall of acorns, had already loosed their animals in order, snuffling and snorting, to root them up.

Seven gleeful piglets dashed across the green, snouts to the ground.

The Gloucester Old Spot intent on dogging my heels must have been their mother.

I am not sure what she did to one youngster when their nose-rings clashed on one apparently tasty morsel, but the youngster leapt with a squeal in the air and swiftly trotted to a safe distance.

Its face made clear its shocked innocence.

Further on a Saddleback sow scavenged for mast.

Nearby it seemed clear that pigs could fly – up a tree at least.

The lane narrowed as we left the farm section and tracked the woodland. Suddenly I exclaimed “There is something red in there. I don’t know what it is but it might have legs”. We had by now passed it. My long-suffering Chauffeuse reversed with some difficulty until we reached the small gap in the hedge.

The “something red” had moved behind branches but it did have legs. Was it a young red deer? It unexpectedly displayed the curiosity of

these two usually inquisitive sheep.

This afternoon I posted https://derrickjknight.com/2022/09/15/a-knights-tale-116-1-cumbrian-interludes/

This evening we dined on well cooked roast lamb, roast potatoes, carrots, cauliflower, and broccoli, followed by moist bread and butter pudding. Jackie drank more of the Sauvignon Blanc, I finished the Burgundy, and Dillon and Flo drank fruit cordial.