|Well can you see them? The wild boar. They are the black|
specks in the very distance on the road. The road is
the white trail between the trees ie under the snow.
|And there's the youngster who wouldn't listen to Mum|
"To allow oneself to be carried away by a multitude of conflicting concerns, to surrender to too many demands, to commit oneself to too many projects ... is to succumb to violence. The frenzy of our activism ... kills the root of inner wisdom which makes work fruitful." Thomas Merton
|Because it was Valentine's day when we went|
to the hotel for our weekly meal
|Who are you looking at?|
|A fine set of antlers on this one, although apparently|
it won't be long before they lose them for this year.
|A hunting tower where they can watch|
and wait for the wild boar to come
|A winter feeding station for wild deer.|
|A pile of tasty beets and potatoes for the|
|Mineral licks for the deer too, to keep them|