Forget me Not

One for Ann.
I was retelling the story to Andrew Douglas of how Ann learnt to whistle.  She was taught by Slowgrove, who was the gardener for the family where Ann’s mum worked as a housekeeper.  It triggered the memory of how I always knew when she was home as her arrival was always accompanied by her familiar whistle as she walked across the yard. As I sat out in the sunshine surrounded by the new green of garden I watched the Jackdaws performing for one another on the chimney tops.  If there is a new life after death (and Ann believed that there is in some form), then I think she might have liked to return as a Jackdaw, They are such intelligent and determined birds and love the way they are so family orientated.  From a single pair or  two pairs, we now have quite a colony occupying the spare chimney pots of our little settlement,

I cut the grass today.