The fig tree, because it was pretty much left to do as it pleased, turned into a gnarled and tangled mess...
You can't walk past the tree for all the branches that head in any and every direction, as they please...
The higher you go, the thinner the branches get...
Up to a point, even at the crown the branches are still pencil thick... impenetrable is a word that comes to mind, ha ha.
Being Winter, it's bare, so it's all grey branches...
Except for this morning...
There was a sightly off white shape nestled in the tree, sleeping and enjoying the sun...
Why should he bother roaming the neighbourhood foraging for food?
All he has to do is present himself by the back door during the afternoon and look pathetic...
A hunched, shivering figure, even better if he's standing on one foot with the other clutched beneath him as if it's injured... ha ha.
I'll give him a piece of bread and he'll head off along the bridge and sit with it in the sun and be as happy as anything...
Me? Shivering? It might have been a bit cool... The foot? Oh, I was resting it...
Oh no, there's nothing wrong with me, now that I've got my bread... There will be more, won't there...?, ha ha.
🙂
