Magic sky

The colours in the sky were magical yesterday evening, developing in hue and intensity long after the sun had sunk over the horizon. The old pump that has stood so long in the corner of what was the farm yard must have seen many sunsets and bears its makers name proudly:- "Holman and Son's Penzance" a (now closed) firm of ship builders based at Penzance dry dock. It stands now a sort of memorial for a closed industry nearly opposite to the place it was forged straight across Mounts Bay. The dry dock is still there of course but doesn't open so often now, sending the towns traffic into chaos - just as the blast doesn't echo across the bay from Newlyn quarry any more - I always knew it was coming towards lunchtime or to put it more precisely I was late again, by the boom that echoed at twelve o' clock each day. But life goes on and the sun still sets across the Bay.

We fed and mucked out the stables with tingling fingers this morning in the clill clear air and there was a suspicious trace of white in one corner of the lawn as i went on my morning pilgrimage to feed the mares.

The morning sent Spud into a passable impression of a cat caught in a kaleidoscope, as he raced from each fresh sensation, each new adventure tail kinked in fun and Olley? well he sensible plodded in and sat by the Rayburn!