A Butterfly Sea - and Jekyll

We woke up to storms. Wind, much needed rain, and a fierce Channel.  "Isn't the sea wonderful?" I gushed to Captain B.  "No." he said, with a face like thunder (to keep the storm motif going) "Its not a butterfly sea."

True enough - cold, windy, rainy.   However, after a few hours, the sun appeared, and Captain Butterfly disappeared.  He was off to Rewell Woods, to look for PBFs - Pearl Bordered Fritillarys to all you non-butterfly buffs out there.

I sent Joy (in Expatland) a poem I just found.  We spent many years of our expat life round at her parents house - and went on holidays with them, and camping trips.   They had a mynah bird called Jekyll, who was quite fierce and noisy. When he died I wrote a poem for him.

JEKYLL
by me

So farewell then darling Jekyll

Now no voice our guests will heckle

No seed our floors will speckle

And no beak our hands will peckle

You’re a bird we’ll not forgetle

An eagle, not a starling!

Farewell then, Jekyll darling.

 I haven't done much as I am still not very mobile.  My medicine came.  I studied, and I used up some veggies to make us a soup for our tea, and an apple crumble to go along with it.  "Will there be custard?" asked Captain B when he rang me from the woods to tell me about the PBF situation.  

There was.