It didn’t really start well.

I was on the phone to my friend in Scotland. Ani, as usual, objected to me being thus distracted and attached me firmly to the other end of a tug toy.

All was well while she was simply shaking me…I explained the strange glitches in my voice to my friend.

“She’s being lunatic-dog again.”

“Dogs do reflect their owners, you know…” She may have a point. I admit nothing.

“She’s shaking me like a leeeeee…eek!”

From perfectly poised to tortoise in one pull. I kneel upon the floor, an ungainly heap with the computer chair on my back.

Giggling.

Ani, you see, has panicked. Disposing hurriedly of the evidential toy and snuggling in close, ears down, checking worriedly… just in case.

“Mad…”

Now, I don’t know which of us my friend was referring to…. But she was probably right.

And may explain why I have been driving down country lanes having long and involved conversations with the recalcitrant kites wheeling above me all the way today… except when I could find somewhere to stop and get the camera out… at which point all I managed were specks receding into the distance and a fine shot of an inch of low flying tail feathers.

In a determined effort to finally get a decent photograph I headed for a village known for their presence. I haven’t been there for about 15 years, but even so, I was pretty sure there had not been a standing stone on that common…. I hit the brakes and pulled over.

Kneeling on the damp grass to get a decent angle, absorbed in the thought that there really ought to be kites somewhere in this vast expanse of sky… I failed signally to notice the incoming Border Terrier and his Goldie companion…until the little one jumped squarely on my back leaving me sprawled face down in the dust.

Giggling.

The nice gentleman apologised for the miscreant’s behaviour. My assailant just grinned and walked all over me.

I’d been right about the stone though… a new addition for the Millennium.

Ancient though the stone is, ‘right’ though it looks there… you can just sort of tell.

He did, however, confirm my hazy memory of a signpost for a church at the end of the village.  Still no kites.

The place, hidden down the narrowest of lanes and amid a wood, turned out to be tiny, smaller than many folks’ living rooms, and very simple. The type I love. Unless you are an expert you would be hard pushed to date the place…but it has been there some 900 years. Again… you can just tell.

There is a ‘feel’ to these ancient places, in spite of concrete rendering. There was nothing really of note, no spectacular monuments, not even much in the way of stained glass.  Just an ancient yew beside the tower… of incredible girth… and a small grotesque mask above one window. It was enough. I loved it.

There were still no kites… till I got back in the car and headed for home. At which point they were everywhere… or at least everywhere it was impossible to stop. On impulse I turned into the lane at Winchendon…there is an old church there I have never been inside. I determined to get the key and found the house where it is kept with no problem. The door was open, but there was no answer.

Then they arrived at full pelt and barking… well, the Border was barking… the  pup was just curious.. and cute..

I made friends with the Border first, while pup pranced and stalked…then knelt down to say hello. That, apparently, was enough. And I had a mouthful of puppy nose.

Sure that their owner would appear at any moment and could be asked for the key, we played for a bit.. pup deciding I may be a chew toy, but if not, was a decent climbing frame…

I didn’t see the owner… or the key…or the church interior….

As I started the car again a streak of red flew past and I dived out , camera in hand… as it flew off into the distance…

I didn’t get my shot…mainly specks against the clouds…

And Ani has now given me the cold shoulder. After reading my clothes, her nose glued to their tell-tale fabric for a full ten minutes, she is staring at me accusingly….