High summer is upon us at last. The meadows are hip-deep in wild grasses where the horses do not graze.



It's a few weeks since I've been down the old lane to look for the group I originally dubbed the "meadow foxes" (as opposed to, say, the non-garden fox I saw with the donkey the other day down a different trail); it's not easy with Kelly's illness as she finds walking on tarmac to be tiring. This evening, I took Leila out there. The grass was high enough to hide a deer, let alone a fox, and the magpies wisely positioned themselves on the fences.



But up on the high ridges I eventually spotted a rufus form



It's the busy season for bird activity, even if the number of species that can be easily observed doesn't compare to the winter. Pied wagtails are evidently raising their chicks in the farm buildings



But a swallow can relax for a little while before thinking of journeying back to the southern hemisphere.