The grasshoppers are strikingly chordant at 21h of the evening, radiating their chirruping as a form of Morse Code as I stop to listen and look at the mass of ivy on the stone wall from where the sound is loudest.
French Poney is annoyed with me! She trots over to greet me whilst I climb the dry stone wall -- I couldn't reach to stroke her nose as the width of the wall plus another width before the electric fence prevents this gesture. It is one of my
favourite places where I can look over the fields and woodland to the east and westwards uphill to the sunset. I have a handful of hay from "Le Paradise des Chévres". That's the name of the field in which G's very large flock of sheep graze from time to time. I don't know how old the hay is but neither poney nor sheep were interested. In fact to show her discontent French poney turned tail towards me, did a long pee and a loud passing of wind and trotted off without looking back. Now I know my place!