THE last year’s been a bit challenging, truth be told.
At one stage in deepest, darkest winter, every time I passed beneath this big tree on the home stretch, something inside would crumple and I’d have a sob till I got to my front door – at which point I’d pull myself together for the sake of the rabbit. It was like some strange sort of Enid Blyton phenomenon; like its branches were a magical portal between the daytime and way-past-someone’s-bedtime. It got to the point where I’d light a cigarette just before I got to the tree, so that I could at least have a nice fag while I was sobbing.
Hang on … let me just wait for this wave of self-pity to pass… (fans face)
Today on the way home I decided to sit down under the tree and wrench the headphones from my ears. There was a strange low moaning from the branches – and no, it wasn’t me. “Loam … loam” it sort of went. I picked out four different bird songs, and the late-afternoon light did quite moving things I will not attempt to describe here. I don’t reckon there’ll be any more wailing beneath the tree. Particularly now daylight saving has come into play and the curtain twitching will be in full force.
Keeper? Yes, will dust off a book on birds.
View from the tree of another tree I'm quite partial to.
Hey man, now you're really living 
The mention of your esteemed rabbit, Mr Thumpy, reminds me of another idea: could you create and then sew a small outfit for him?
Perhaps a poncho? Although since he’s not allowed outside, that might be taking the piss.
spring has a seriously physical effect on you in the country I reckon. thank full ness for it! (winter is great for crying.)
Indeed – I am blossoming like a plum tree!
Amazing!!!!! I took a photo of that very same tree whilst holding the reins of your abode. Definitely something to it. xxx