Firgus the Wattlebury Lumberjack was hard at work in the forest. Well we didn't actually know he was until we saw plumes of smoke billowing through the sky. And being curious, nay - a tad nosey, we tripped along to see what he was doing. He told us that he was felling some very tall fir trees on the Wattlebury Estate and warned us not to get too near to his bonfire as we may end up roasted! With that he threw his head back and guffawed. Strange sense of humour, that Firgus.
​

It was jolly hot and soon we returned to our farm with red cheeks and wattles. Susie got her little notebook out and wrote a poem as she felled sorry for the Fir Trees.​

Ode to the Firs

The grey clouds turned amber, an apricot hue
Then dark and foreboding - of dun and ecru.
​The fir trees they crackled and sizzled and charred
Like an exploding inferno, a red fusillage.
​Once noble and proud, they slumped to the earth
​And the fire she fizzled with chuckles of mirth.
 
​by Susie Sebright

​What a difference a day made

Twenty four little hours

Sunshine and flowers

Where there used to be rain

I know it's April, but....
​Yesterday evening was bathed in warm sunshine and there was definitely a positive feel in the air that spring had arrived. Kit and Kate Kite were flying low over Wattlebury. The primroses were smiling. Flick and Fluffy were ready to lamb and Penny and Harry were enjoying the last mooch of the day.

But today is dull, chilly, cloudy, windy, drizzly and drear. There is hardly a bird in sight, save for a pair of magpies and a wood pigeon. You wouldn't even notice yesterday's bright yellows of daffodils, celandine and primroses. Flick and Fluffy look no more like lambing than the man in the moon and Harry is hunched on top of the aviaries, whilst Penny is
​sitting in our loose box with me. But the warm weather of yesterday and the wet weather of today will make the grass grow and the buds on the trees burst open. That Thomas Tusser knew a thing or two - 'sweet April showers do spring May flowers' he said. And Bambi was very positive too about his 'drip drip drop little April shower, what can compare to your beautiful sound?' Oh! and by the way Mum - Thomas Tusser back in 1573 also wrote this ditty:

In March and in April from morning till night
In sowing and seeding good housewives delight
​To have her a garden or other like spot
​To trim up the house and to furnish the pot.

​"Thanks Gordon!"
​

We have geese in the Big Field. And there they remain. They honk and grottle and take great pleasure in not doing a lot, loitering by the water trapped in the furrows of grain.

Every so often they gaggle and their voices can be heard far, far away. Then up they go - like a train across the plain - weaving across the fields before alighting once again on a field full of rain. They reserve their wedge or V formation for flights in the fast lane. Jolly impressive too! The highest they have been recorded is 29,000 feet! Hardly a birdbrain. But they fly around Wattlebury in a skein - meandering across the stubble  like a continuous daisy chain.
​There's Shane and there's Wayne. And Jane and Elaine. Then Alain and Hussein, Dwayne and Charmaine. McClean and Jermaine, Kane and Lorraine - and bringing up the rear is Nicky Demaine.

Due to the bouts of heavy rain that we have had recently, the path to Wattlebury village has been very wet and muddy. After one such downpour the old leaves and twigs had been fashioned into wavy shapes by the rainwater as it carried them along like a river.

The clay soil was smooth, all dents and dimples washed away - an empty canvas for new footprints.
​Reuben and Drongo breathlessly jumped and half-flew into the yard as they returned from the village.
​"A bear! We have a bear - he lives here in Wattlebury! He has feet so big that we can both stand in one footprint!"
​I looked aghast - what on earth could it be? Surely not a bear? Trying not to alarm everyone too much, I gathered a small agile search party and told Reuben and Drongo to take us to the mysterious footprint.

"Keep close! Be ready to fly to the nearest branch well out of reach!" I instructed the team and off we set.
"There it is Uncle Gordon!"
​And indeed - there it was!

Aah! I knew who that was. "Nothing to fear everyone! It is my old friend Bill Badger! No doubt in search of worms for the cubs that he and Barbara will now have. He comes along here regularly - but at night when we are all fast asleep - and you wouldn't notice his footprints if the ground were drier."
​The search party gave a huge sigh of relief and examined the large bear-like print more closely.
​"Why don't we see who else has been walking along here?" I suggested. And look who we found!