I always breakfast outside when the weather allows.
I was enjoying a pot of fresh coffee and eating some awful little scones I found while rummaging in the depths of the freezer. I was also looking to see if A C Grayling had written anything illuminating about guilt - specifically survivors' guilt. I didn't find anything, but as always found lots to engage me.....and the sun was just beginning to warm me nicely when from the forest I heard the unmistakeable hoot of an owl!
Did he know I was seeking wisdom?
Just for a moment I was out of my own head and in the trees with an owl who was heading home.
What kind of a night had he had?