crow bursts up between the branches of an ash apparently flying sideways
and vertically, as if Frisbee'd into the air by a sudden gust of wind.
It's had a narrow escape; a sparrowhawk, head down, fast and determined,
zips through below it a second later.
As we loop back towards the poultry farm we're tempted to go a fifty
yards further to call at our local camping store, Mitchells, which, conveniently
for us, happens to be our nearest large shop, less than ten minutes walk
from our front door. They've just revamped the place and it's such a pleasure
to browse around and pick up gloves, hats and thermal trousers in preparation
for our winter walks. I'm so glad we don't have to make our way into a
city or shopping mall to pick up our outdoor gear.