in which we flee to the country

We were down on the farm for Friday night.

I held one of the well-behaved chickens to see whether we saw eye-to-eye. It was fine until they sighted some wet bread and broke into a frenzy of crust grabbing.

Later our increasing gang took ourselves off to an adjacent open air table to sip some local ale and chatter. It was still early evening and hectic London a few hours behind us took a moments to flee as we became adjusted to our rural surroundings.