There was also a small white dog, prick-eared and bushy-bummed, looking smart in what could have as well been a pair of plus fours. He might have been on his way to play a round of golf, or, more likely, to have a drink in the clubhouse (proper attire required).
And I nearly forgot that little loop of some vegetative thing, twisted like a withy, a fairie-child's hoop. This morning it rolled along just ahead of me for ten strides, animated by the breeze.
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