Spectacles

The pub on Psalter Lane was called The Stag until recently. After a recent refurbishing they've renamed it The Stags Head. Asking why, across the bar, brought the response that this was in fact its original name. So that would be a move back to the traditional? Well no, the pub sign which was a fairly traditional picture of a stag, if uninspired, has been replaced with a new one painted by someone who's probably never seen a stag: it's recognisable as the head of a stag but the antlers are far from accurate. To add insult and weirdness the animal is wearing glasses! Obviously the landlord thought this was a clever joke; I wonder how long it will seem funny?

You're not likely to get a good model for an accurate depiction of a stag's head at the moment. I had speculated that they had decamped and gone off to the western slopes but this morning one was spotted staring at me in one of the wilder valleys. His burr where the new antlers will soon be showing was easy to see: the old ones will be somewhere among the old bracken and bilberry. Other stags were partly hidden further down some with odd bits of antler remaining.

The rise in temperature's not yet brought the long awaited greening, buds remaining firmly closed.

So the spectacle the eyes need is still found in the exuberant lichens.

The closer you get to the streams the more you see of them, their restricted colouring helping to disguise some trees as wraith-like beings.