The hunter

There's was no chance this cat was going to say hello. It was hunting in the cemetery, which is a wild place that must be full of interest for a predator. No dogs are allowed in the area, but no one can tell a cat what it can or can't do.

I had a day around home, with an outing to the Electric Cafe for brunch. Fred decided to have the famous coconut cake, which I declined because I was full, but I overheard the question "Would you like it with custard?" and raced up to the counter to place a cake and custard order. It was delicious. 

We walked back via the cemetery and spotted not just this cat but another one at the top of the hill. That one didn't say hello either. I didn't see the green woodpecker, long-tailed tits or the sparrowhawk, but the parakeets were around.

Inspired by a friend who'd just tidied his garden, I spent the last hour or so of daylight clearing leaves from the path and grass into the flowerbeds and compost bin. In my wake, the robin helpfully cleared the path of worms. Luckily, the cat was indoors and didn't clear the path of robin. At one point the jay swooped down and grabbed a beakful of dried mealworms from the poppy feeder. It made a lot of noise so I know my presence was a nuisance.

A friend suggested I listen to Dronzone radio for some ambient white noise while working. So far, so good.