Death of an Entwife?
Oh Dear, another dank morning, not as cold perhaps as yesterday, but the sky is full of rain. There seems little movement in the way of wind, so the rain clouds look low and statutory. As promised yesterday, my scribe and I went to look at the fallen tree by the river. Due to one thing and another, which is far to complicated to go into, we had not ventured this way for over a week. The reports were true, unfortunately. We found that one of the old ash trees had in fact come down. It was not, however, my favourite tree that has hit the deck, but the one next to it. 
My favourite tree pictured, plays an important part in my life. My scribe says it looks like an Ent, the legendary tree shepherds, featured in Tolkien’s Lord of the Rings. I expect you will think this is fanciful, but for sure, this tree is a great favourite for both of us. You never know it may be one of the missing Entwives. The loss of its next door neighbour is a nuisance as it blocks the path, however, to have lost our tree would have been a tragedy. Our tree holds a secret. It marks an important spot, for this is where I enter the river. Here is where it is deep enough, in all seasons, for me to swim. We were actually in the river last weekend by the now fallen tree. He thought there was something wrong, the old tree was creaking; we had to move as a branch came down. The winds of that evening obviously finished the job.
It was also the first time we had truly been across the fields on our own since the Little Accomplice and her Maman were with us, how I missed them. Come back soon Little Accomplice I am getting the full and undivided attention once again and had not realised how wonderful it was to not be the focus of what I can only describe as nagging.
I am off on holiday for two weeks in something called a Grockle. I await with interest; have no fear I will return with tales of my exploits.
I am as always
La Grande Sophie.
