217- The Birds

Tired of the everyday grind? Ever dream of a life of romantic adventure? Wanna get away from it all? We offer you... Escape! Escape! Designed to free you from the four walls of today, for a half hour of high adventure.

You are in a farmhouse on the southern coast of England. The autumn countryside around you desolate and bleak. And you know that in the dusk outside, waiting patiently for you, silently watching for you, is an enemy from whom there may be, no escape.

Listen now, as escape brings you Daphne Di Morye's story, the birds. On December the third, the wind changed overnight, and it was winter. Until then the autumn had been mellow, soft.

The earth was rich where the plow had turned it. it. I didn't do the plowing, no, my wartime disability had seemed to that. They gave me mostly the lighter repair jobs to do in the three days a week that I worked at the farm, a bank to build up or a gate to mend at the far end of the peninsula where the seas surrounded

the farmland on either side. Deborah and I had taken the cottage up here to try again, for the sake of the children, and it seemed to be working fairly well. I enjoyed my work on the farm. It was present to pause at midday to eat the lunch that Debby prepared and brought to me.

We'd sit there on the cliff while I ate and we'd watch the birds. Oh, many of them, Matt. Yes, well the autumn's better than spring for watching them. Oh, why? Oh, well in the spring their content, their full purpose, say no where they're going, there's no delay. But then in autumn it's different. The birds that don't, my great,