The last of the light skipped across the purple heather last night. The forest was silent in the heavy, humid air apart from a dragonfly rattling past. The ponies were grazing amongst the glade of the trees and a herd of fallows were laying calming in the distant heather out of harm's reach. As the light started to fade on my return home a tawny started to hoot. I managed to see where he was, tucked up amongst the boughs and stood and admired for a while before heading home, joined by the emerging bats moving acrobatically through the sky.