I mentioned a couple of weeks ago, here, that our own personal grassy knoll is fortuitously placed so as to have witnessed thousands of moments in history - and, often, more minor events.
Yesterday, a flight of fancy was cut short, in the field across the way.
These chaps look a bit sad, not least because it's starting to drizzle. But a kick is hardly going to solve the problem...
...much better to have a snooze till the cavalry arrives.
Here they come - hope they've brought the instruction manual.
"Hello darling, hang on a mo' while I take a pinch of snuff." These intrepid funsters are no spring chickens. You could call them silver gliders.
And there they go, on the Great North Road!