Most unusual for me to scribble on two consecutive days..have the wasps finally stung my buttocks,have the wild winds junked my throat, am i gasping for breath have ferrets ran amok or am i simply sat here fresh showered thinking i have survived yet another opening to another working week,and as the day is dying am i sat quite content for some reason and not chasing the taming of the shrew who's antics have scurried amongst the dying hedgerows as Autumn begins to bite. Today i saw my first Chainsaw drones of this autumn season cutting down a hundred year old tree in mere hours not a stick left to even play Poo..sticks on on some forgotten bridge... who's standing stones bake in the crossing, the forlorn hope dreams, i glimpse in every puddle pond i pass looking for the least expected tales under unknown stones,a treasure worth hunting for the wearing of such purple helmets can only beat the bishop to a standstill if caught with out the sunshine glasses i expect for this time of year...