It was a morning for a walk at Welney. Cool grass, a meandering path, and no fixed destination.

For more than an hour at the south end of the reserve, we only saw the herdsman we know, so we talked about lost calves and how to find them.

Then I lay in the shade on the ground, and we talked: John Locke, qualia, and the so-called just-world hypothesis, which is about anything but that. We don't tend to do small talk on such walks.

And on the way back, there was this bee, beeing in a bindweed.

This was what I needed.

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