Late afternoon yesterday, dodged a minefield of liberally strewn cow doings
to walk beside the river in sweltering sunshine, the whole field to ourselves. A brood of 8 new Canada goslings floating on the water, their prettily marked parents just behind & watching closely. Coats more sparse fur than feather, the youngest of their type we can remember seeing here. Clambered confidently out of the water & up the bank, tiny, pointy wings raised like elbows to stabilise their climb. Realised with an inner shrug of helplessness, their stripy primrose down is close to the colour of highlights I paid an arm & a leg for last week, rather pretentiously & ever the optimist, asking for “platinum, pearl & silverâ€. Seems instead, in the din of the salon, what my hairdresser heard was “gosling yellow, pleaseâ€!