Neither the farmer, nor the crow are very concerned about anything. The farmer stamps around in his wellington boots shouting at nothing. The crow sits up on the farmhouse roof making a horrible noise.
The farmer likes to shout. He doesn’t feel quite himself until he has been up for at least an hour shouting.
This morning he is up early and he is shouting at his reflection in the fog.
Fog reflections are rare but if you ever see one they are very scary.
The farmhouse has a powerful lamp above the doorway. On dark mornings, such as this one, the light reaches out into the yard and the barns.
On this foggy morning the farmer’s shadow is thrown up into the fog. A huge shadow giant is standing, thirty metres high, waving its fist at the farmer, who is, of course, also waving his fist.
The crow, meanwhile, is running up and down, back and fore along the top of the farmhouse rooftop, making that dreadful cawing noise. Caw caw caw, it goes.
The farmer shakes his fist at his fog shadow, the crow rushes back and fore. This goes on for hours, and it will go on until you decide it’s time for it to stop.
yawn the post 