The Cow Scraped Under The Moon

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My sister, Elizabeth, has a library to rival my own. On her recent visit, as she is on the process of thinning her collection, she brought me two Folio Society novels that she thought I would like. She knew that I have other editions of each of these works, but not of these particular illustrated editions.

The first is

which I posted today.

When, shortly before dusk, Jackie and I set out for Hatchet Pond before shopping for vegetables at Brockenhurst’s Tesco Metro,

the moon sheepishly showed its face above Christchurch Road.

The pale sky above the pond, where mallards and coots paddled over breezy ripples,

bore scarcely any trace of the hoped for sunset.

a creamy cow scraped against a blended birch,

beneath the now more prominent satellite

sometimes peeping through naked branches.

This evening we dined on Jackie’s wholesome beef casserole; boiled new potatoes; and firm Brussels sprouts with which I finished the Malbec.