Lights, no camera, action, cut

When I walk around the estate, I usually do just that, walk around. Other than cutting the occasional corner, and walking around the swales, I rarely criss-cross. So dock-slicing has led me on a rare excursion into the cut and among the newly-planted trees on the bank. In the bright summery sunshine, the cut responds with a galaxy of dandelions. I disturbed a hare on the western side, and watched it run diagonally across. Earlier, I'd found a mass of forget-me-nots by the pond. The place has changed dramatically in less than a month.

Just before Vespers, there were a couple of lapwings hunting for a nesting site in the cut. Proudly erect, they paraded a few steps, and stopped, and paraded again. They stepped closer on parallel lines, then both turned away through right-angles, proceeded a few steps, turned, tracing a stately dance, much like two of Jane Austen's grand persons wearing the latest fashion in hats to a ball.