The last of my long days in the garden: June was back at work and left the house early as a sequence of numbers which she hoped will be repeated in reverse when she returned. I had dreamt that the lady at the bottom of the road had recited a spell and every living thing could now talk; unfortunately when I went outside everything was silent - and remained so even when I cut the grass. Maybe there is a world where the grass cuts humans; in which case I hope I find myself in a genteel compost heap, away from the bright green rabble. I laughed at my own jokes as a relatively small lump of earth floated overhead, I was pleased it already had a small tree growing in it. June came home in time to watch the christening of a new space crossbow; from this I will explore the universe.