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Here comes Skippy, trundling determinedly towards me from the end of the bottom field. It's a similar view to what we've had before, looking down towards the bottom edge of the bottom field, but the sun is a bit higher, the light a bit brighter, Skippy's fleece a bit fluffier. One gets the feeling that winter will shortly be in the bin. Giles isn't here, he's remained absent after having been butted up the arse twice by Skippy yesterday. I suspect he made the mistake of approaching Skippy's lady-audience corner without letting Skippy lead the way, which perhaps Skippy interpreted as a dominance move. Skippy is usually quite polite!