The castle’s been having some work done on the roof for the last few weeks so there’s a scaffolding tower in my garden. It’s just outside my bedroom window and from certain angles it blocks my view of the lamp-post.
My tics have had nothing to say about this.
“Lamp-post, stop hiding behind the scaffolding.”
“Lamp-post, the scaffolding’s a more upright citizen than you are.”
“It’s a lamp-post eclipse.”
“Lamp-post, you’re just an indistinct orange mist to me.”
“Lamp-post, are you still there?”
“Scaffolding, are you going to just stand there all night?”
“Scaffolding, do you prefer treading water or treading the boards?”
“Scaffolding, I’m glad you’re not driftwood yet.”
I’ve no idea when the scaffolding will be leaving my garden, but for the moment at least it seems the lamp-post is having to share the limelight.