Red in Tooth and Claw

Sparrowhawk ♂, Accipiter nisus

I looked out to the sea this morning - about 6 a.m. - and wondered why there was a pigeon standing so oddly in our courtyard.  Why? And - and what on earth was it doing?.  Realising it was a non-pigeon - in fact, a bird of prey - a sparrowhawk maybe - tearing at its catch, I rushed through and woke up Captain Butterfly.

He rushed for his camera and then to the window, and then, having got his record shots, tiptoed to the balcony.   He clicked away until it flew off with its prey firmly clutched in its claws.

Thank goodness a rescue is on the way for all creation.  And in the meantime I can cling on to the thought that "not a sparrow falls".

Saturday night was the farewell party for our brother Josh who is leaving for Canada this week.  It was held at the Village Hall - packed - and Captain B came and really enjoyed himself.  We all bought wine - and there was a bar and buffet, some speeches and some home-grown entertainment. It was a warm family occasion.

Jackie came round on Sunday:  We had lamb cooked Middle Eastern style, with rice and veggies; and ice-creams and cheese and biscuits courtesy of Waitrose.  I shall use the lamb recipe again, as it turned out very well.  Col had the last of it last night, with carrots and potatoes.  Which brings me back to "nature, red in tooth and claw".  We don't eat a lot of meat or fish, but we do eat it.

 It was a lovely evening as it always is with Jacks.

And the team of Jean and Sue managed an hour and a half of local door to doors on Saturday morning, tottering back here for a tea and a chat before I ran Jean home. Which is just about my driving limit at the moment.

Yesterday I walked into town and back and had a browse in our lovely new second-hand bookshop. He is going to look out for a copy of Ballard's "The Empire of the Sun" for me.  I have explained I don't want a First Edition, but something I can read.

The sombre and powerful memorialising of the tragedy of the Somme last week has made me want to read Ballard's amazing book again.

But the walk, not a long one, exhausted me.  I tell myself that my body is still struggling to recover from Major Operation No.3 and that I will get some energy back. But I am in my Seventieth year, so perhaps this is par for the course?