I drew back the heavy curtains and opened the blinds to a bright white world clothed in frost.

All of a sudden I gasped in horror.  The beauty of nature was spoiled by its alter ego when I spied the trail of bloody footprints.  They passed the full length of my picture window.  Donning warm layers I went to investigate.

At the corner of the house were the signs of battle.  It was not a fight to the bitter end since there were no bodies in sight, only bloody trails in differing directions.

The trail past my front doorstep, I think it was a cat limping off home.

The battle scene

Now, if the first row of paw prints were a cat – I say this because in snow and we had plenty this winter – the paw prints are usually left in a single row, what was the other combatant?

Two rows of prints widely spaced.

This second set of prints trailed all along the side of the house, round the back only ending where the patio met the shrubbery.

Do you think it was a fox?

The evidence has been removed, I cleaned and scrubbed until all was once more pristine, so arriving to investigate is a waste of time.  Is it any wonder I get tired?

The brighter mornings gladden my heart, at six thirty I was sitting up in bed contemplating breakfast.

Suddenly there was an almighty THUMP!  It sounded like it was outside and not far away.  At that hour my neighbourhood is like sleepy valley…. well sleepy hill top!  I looked out the window and there was no sign of movement or disturbance.  Moving to a room on the other side I lifted my eyes to the glass and bang in the middle, stuck on the outside was a clump of feathers!

Is nature telling me it is time to move?