Morning walking was at the airfield, all kingcups and marshland and golden grasses.
Evening walking was trip to visit the stone. And The white cat came too, to see if he could find it. We sat for a short while in a scoop of shelter. A raven flew close by.
π and The White Cat wandered dangerous places while Ivy turned her face to read the wind.
The The white Cat said that he would find the stone, for though he had not been with us when we placed it, he was a cat and the hill and all that was on it was known to him.
Here, said The White Cat.