|The top limb of a larch tree blocking the driveway.|
|The topless larch. Lots of new sky!|
|Silver lining for the sheep. They get to browse the ivy leaves|
off the broken branches we toss in to their field.
|Not that many logs once they are all tidied up.|
|That spruce that came down across the sheep|
fence at the top of out East Field.
|A neighbour's hay barn was 50% shorter after Eleanor and his|
cattle-race a bit fuller of scrap iron.
|Storm Fionn slides by to the south of the island.|
|Blue perches on the full but still open crates|
of Christmas. What could possibly go wrong?
Stay safe, people.