Water Beneath

Yesterday They held a conference by the pond. The rather pretty yellow marsh marigold has been squashed and They seemed to feel Myself was the culprit. (Impossible - It sits in the water and there is Absolutely No Way I would ever trust My dignity to standing on anything even half as unstable.) He hobbled round the edge to see if there was any incriminating evidence but found nothing apart from one of Fred's feathers.

One of the baby blackbirds wasn't as intelligent as Myself and tried landing on a lily pad. The inevitable happened and it had an unexpected and very splashy bath.