A Blast through Glastonbury

Who'd love to wake up every morning and see this through their bedroom window? 

Or have so many and various birds visiting your feeders that you don't have to rush to the window every time a greater spotted woodpecker or several bullfinches alight on one?

All this bounty has fallen upon my friend, Jan, now ensconced in her new home just outside Glastonbury. I tried not to envy. (Failed.)

It was dreich and dreary there on Monday but we still had a great time puddling around town. Jan pointed out a pair of mediaeval stone corbels I hadn't noticed before, on either side of Stephens Butchers. This is an eloping couple ... 

... and this is a man making a really rather rude gesture. 

Later, there was more conviviality with Rachael Clyne, who is blessed with roe deer in her back garden, not to mention badgers on the patio (though we didn't see them), and poetry with Wells Fountain Poets: a hugely enjoyable evening with fine readings from all the open mic-ers and the chance for me to try out some newer poems on a kindly and attentive audience. 





And no drive back across the Levels late at night would be complete without the challenge of fog and heavy rain, just to make my cup all overflowethy. Which it did when I finally got home.