Thrills and Chills

F-22 Raptors and RAF Typhoons filled the Suffolk sky with noise at the beginning of the week as the fighter jets from the UK and the USA took part in mock dog fights. The Raptors are training at Lakenheath as they get into practice for some war zone or another. At first it was a thrill to witness their power, but after a while the sound barrier being broken overhead becomes irritating, then infuriating. The noise was very, very loud. I imagine being in Aleppo, say, where the din must be constant, and fear an ever-present reality. Two days was more than enough for me. Mach and macho. War games. No comment.

Today I worked in the garden while the sun beat down and forced me to don my battered old straw hat. The dog panted, moved from sunny spot to sunny spot, and occasionally drank from the pond though I'd put out a bowl of lovely fresh, cold water. He followed me around as usual, flopping down where I worked and dragging himself into the summerhouse for a change. Every now and again he came and stood in front of me and just looked in a curious, interested way. He seemed to be saying: "So this is what you do all day. I asked the woman at the whippet rescue centre but she said she didn't know who you were. She suggested I waited until I met you before deciding whether or not to go with you. She said people give all sorts of reasons for why they need a dog, but who really knows? But I'm glad I chose you. Apart from those damn noisy fighter jets it's nice and peaceful here. Shall we play chase again?" He's a sun worshipper for sure. Wherever the sunshine is in the house you'll find him lying in it. But he doesn't seem to understand the need for shade.

In the dog house

Glistening boy

Spring flowers

Beautiful boy

With him keeping an eye on me all day I cleared most of a bed of weeds, mowed the lawn and mostly trimmed the edges, and put a mixture of well-rotted sheep manure and garden compost on the shrubs. I'm seriously thinking about getting a ride-on mower, if I can find one that will fit through the gate. It still takes ages, and I'm only doing it once a week at the moment. Hugo went crazy when the mower appeared, and leapt and pranced around it barking his head off. It seemed to be so out of character. I put him in the kitchen while I worked, and let him out again when I'd finished. And he leapt and pranced again just for the heck of it, flying around and stopping dead at my feet when I called him. He made me laugh out loud with his antics.

By mid afternoon the silence was disturbed again, but more sombrely this time. The church bell was slowly tolled, 100 times I think though I didn't count. It's a grim sound, this tolling the passing of a life, but it's splendid too, an ancient rite being performed to markwith respect a chapter being closed. I've heard it before of course, but it is always chilling though somehow thrilling too. Which is where I came in.