The winter winds brought some unexpected activity in the garden this year. The Argos shed we’d bought, against all advice, is still there – concreted in as everything has to be in this northern stretch of Doolin – but the roof felting was not so secured. Like a baby bird, it waited for the right moment, then pulled itself away and soared in the gusts, spreading itself out to make the most of the gale’s power. It sailed majestically over the drive, attempting to make it past the gorse and freedom. Alas, it got its angles wrong and smashed into a wall higher up the hill. All is not lost though. I’ve got extra felt and have bought more tacks. Hopefully in a month or so the roof felt will have the confidence once more to try and fly to Galway.
As if emboldened by the roof felt’s gallant flight, other garden inhabitants have also taken to the skies. The children’s picnic bench, put together by my father in law but not concreted in by me, took off from the south end of the lawn and would have cleared the garden but for the pile of slates on the other side of the shed. It has now made a new home here – well, some of it, the rest is scattered elsewhere in the garden. Further back on the lawn, the washing line post had been concreted deep into the ground. Unable to move its whole bulk into the air to join its friends, the post cleverly snapped in two, leaving the top piece free to taste freedom for a few blissful seconds.
