Carnage

heaps of disembowelled and desiccated bodies are strewn along the path
late arrivals feast on the remains
the trail of tiny blue poisonous pellets leads all the way to the back door

(Slugs and snails seem to be becoming a regular theme here)

tarmac

a blast of heat wafts up at me as if from an opened oven door
but the smell is the acrid tang of newly laid tarmac

Baby carriage

Whilst the yummy mummies are gathering outside Café Nero with their trendy three wheeler pushchairs, down along Dene road a little boy with a bright red sweater peers regally out around the hood of his coach built Silver Cross pram pushed by his granny.

Dead thing

The magpies gather, pecking at a carcass surrounded by floating white down
... but it is merely a stuffed toy, eviscerated by the passing council mower.

Snails 2

Do they have a destination in mind ...
or are they just going for a slither in the rain?

Snails 1

the small delicate yellow spiral soldiers on alone
leaving his crushed comrade behind

dew

Tiny pearls of dew shine in the low early sun ... reminding me the grass needs cutting

Sign of the times

Young man with a plastic shopping bag walks along (apparently) talking to himself.

More cats

Watching my arrival and departure impassively, one black and white cat and one white and black cat crouch in the lush damp grass.

Blackbird

He eyes me suspiciously from the path, fearful I will steal his worm.

He tosses it around for a moment then gobbles it down with a swift flick of his head.

Frost

in the frosty morning sunshine

steam rises from the edge of fence panels

and the playing field is patched

green and white where the tree shadows fall

chilly knees

a mustard waistcoat and shorts

perfect attire for a frosty February day