It was still dark when I drove from Penrith, across the Pennines and into Yorkshire. I was yanked out of my reverie by a loud bang. A tawny owl had flown into my windscreen, where it stayed. A buffeting wind kept the bird’s wings in motion, in a parody of flight, but the eyes that gazed at me, from a heart-shaped face, were sightless: a vision that will haunt my dreams. It was fully ten minutes before I was able to stop and remove the owl…
Moondancer, still at her mooring, on Lake Windermere...
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