It was George and Albert's ever cheerful demeanour that has energised me this morning, as it was their unwavering ability to be sweet natured despite any brickbats the weather can throw at us, that has lifted my mood from a rain soaked apathy to a wry smiling positivity.
For the sixth week in a row, the week has started out wet, cold and miserable. "Bosoms" is now dreadfully overgrown with weeks and filled with puddles and even the most robust of the field animals are looking somewhat shopworn and bedraggled. The weather has a strange ability to zap the strength and knock the teeth out of positive resolve and good energy.
Yet animals like Albert and George seem to maintain their jaunty good wills whatever the season
It is just not in their nature to be anything else but cheerful
This morning was a case in point.
As I was rebuilding part of the compost pile which had collapsed under the weight of heavy over night rain showers ( a bloody smelly and disgusting job) I watched as George carefully ambled towards the duck house.
He was doing so, with that slightly forced way people walk when they want to appear casual and invisible , so I knew immediately that he was up to something.
Very slowly George approached the duck house. He stopped to sniff here and stopped to pee , there, but it was clear to me that his major objective was the indian runner duck eggs that had been laid that morning in the corner of the coop furthest from the lane.
George knows, that he always been told him that he has to keep away from sitting eggs, but greed had over taken from obedience and he was desperate for an early breakfast.
I stopped and watched him as he ambled up to the house door then pretended to be busy when he snatched a quick look over to me, to see if I had noticed him.
Slowly ( and I am sure he was actually holding his breath at this point!) he pushed past the assertive hens that were sat in the doorway, sheltering from the rain, then seconds later reappeared with a large blue egg in his mouth.
You could almost see him smiling gently to himself at the very thought of eating it, and he craftily turned his head away to the left, so that if I had indeed spared him a glance, I wouldn't have noticed the egg perched firming between his teeth
Now, knowing that he risked a real bollocking if caught with the egg in his gob, he then bolted for a patch of long grass behind which he could eat his prize in peace and was immediately joined there by Albert who had also noted his extracurricular activities with some interest.
Cat and Dog shared their eggy spoils amid some loud yet good natured banter and I had to smile that when both finally emerged from the grass, they were licking their lips and banging heads playfully together like little schoolboys in the playground
This simple little everyday event has been enough to lift my attention away from dystopian thoughts, bad news days and the bleak depressing weather of our typically sad summer days and the thought crossed my mind .
If I could bottle the enjoyment of watching this little drama...I would be a very rich man
|A Belly Full of duck egg!|