Yesterday, the safety tape marking out the work zone came loose from one of the orange cones and it thrashed around like the cellophane tail on a dragon kite. It was nice having a dragon in the parking lot as I tapped away here inside even though he blew soot through the window all day. Most of the monsters here are sea creatures, though they do hazard the occasional foray onto dry land, scaring the sheep and terrifying the farmer. The wind-blown dragon was a pleasant change.
Today, the other end has come loose, and the dragon is gone. The cones remain, vörður on the tarmac.
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