Crow in Vane

Early morning shot of the local weather crow doings its job - light Westerly. I quite like the way his mate's waiting patiently for his turn. The sun was just making itself known over the wood-crested hill to the south, bathing the top of the spire and fields behind in a pink wash. Just out of shot is a fine public house where Timothy Tailor's Landlord used to be served to the order, "a pint of grumpy old bastard - please". A friend of mine fell into the fire in the bar and set himself alight, nobody'd spare their beer to put him out so he lost his Barbour coat and most of his hair.