OK. This is year 3 or 4 of Sparrowhawks in our garden.
Amazing birds but (like Dracula) birds of prey.
Peep.Peep.Peep.Peep. All day and all night.
The garden is now sans (without) sparrows, tits, wrens. The blackbirds are skitty. The pigeons too. And the baby rabbits need eyes in the top of their heads and their behinds. Hawk or cat.
Where am I going?
Well. The peep peep is insistent. I wake up in the night and thrash around and somehow make the audiobook go from Poirot to Bram Stoker.
All roads lead to Transylvania. Done this too many times to take myself seriously.
Today I’ll be a UnBovvered/Irreverent Historian.
Woof says Van Helsing. One could write a song called Woof, yes?
P.S. When I posted here about my Shamanic Journey with Leslie Kenton and meeting a my totem animal – a WOLF – UAV had such fun with this fact over more than one platform.
What goes around, comes around. WHICH WITCH IS WHICH?
I gave all my support to a totally vile and undeserving person and gained 4 years of hell and damnation.
Gotta love a “Christian.”
LEARN THE LESSON and move on up (?)