Five, Six, Pick Up Sticks

That's what it's been like, for my first few days back at work: clearing up the mess from the storms we had last week.

Here's a typical barrow-full: this time from the Weeping Ash that throws itself merrily at the ground in any sort of wind.  In order to get as much as possible in each load - in this garden, the bonfire heap is a quarter of a mile away, and uphill at that - I have also performed Seven, Eight, Lay Them Straight, as you can see.

Sometimes I think "oh dear, poor trees, all battered by the wind" but then when you look closely at what comes down, so much of it is already dead that I wonder if I should be celebrating on behalf of the trees, rather than pitying them: perhaps they are flinging their newly-lightened boughs around in glee, shouting to each other "Yay! Got rid of that mass of horrible dead stuff at long last! How about you?"