Meteorological inclemency may’ve spoiled a multitude of Bank Holiday plans for our sceptred isles populace, however the shrubs and bedding plants providing natures kaleidoscopic bounty in my garden have benefited no end.

Looked through my dining areas bay window the euphorbia, aquilegia, forget-me-nots, forsythia, rhododendrons, azaleas et al seem to have doubled in size they were prior to the weekends relentless precipitation.

Continuing to avert my gaze outside I can see next doors black and white cat Rio making sporadic lunging movements at what I assume to be a flying insect of some sort. I say assuming as I can’t see his intended prey, all that’s visible to me is his flailing paws as he peers upwards as being taunted by a mischievous fly.

Mind you, he’s not the brightest is old Rio; consequently he could just as easily be amusing himself with a game of imaginary insect chasing. A welcome distraction for the feline, mitigating against his post Bank Holiday boredom.

When I say he’s not the brightest, the only gauge I’ve got to proffer the opinion is from his occasional idiosyncratic behaviour. For all I know he could have a masters degree in nuclear physics from Cambridge, and when he sporadically looks in my direction is thinking to himself “Look at that thick sh**e over there!…. He doesn’t even know how to split an atom!”

I’m guessing he hasn’t been to Cambridge, or indeed other of the UK’s esteemed red brick universities, however as it not a question I’ve been inquisitive to ask his owner Phil, I’ll admit it’s not an informed assumption on my part.

If Rio turns out to be Oxbridge educated, I’d be the first to take my hat off to him…. Or I would be if I had a hat!!….. In fact, even if he’d only achieved an ‘E’ graded GCSE in hat studies from the Benny from Crossroads College I’d extent kudos to the moggy. After all, even that would be quite an achievement for a cat…… Although, I think the hat studies grade does hint at a lazy streak my black and white buddy needs to address.

As I start this paragraph, Rio is no longer in view. He must’ve got bored with chasing the fly (real or imaginary) and gone off to find a mouse or bird to torment. Either that, or Phil’s called him in to ‘crack the books’ to sort out his unacceptable hat studies grades.

The views currently on display in mon jardin (above) is bereft of moggies. Instead I’m bequeathed a chromatic canvas, instilling a feeling of serenity that makes this domain my ‘go to’ sanctuary when tranquility is sought. Sights for eight months a year convert this outdoor area into another room for the Strachan brood.

They say that beauty is in the eye of Noddy Holder (or is that beholder?). If that’s the case, I’d like to think the former Slade frontman would be gracious in his critique of mon jardin de kaleidoscopique…… Hopefully, utilising the superb West Midland colloquialism of “Bostin!”*** to describe the visions beheld.

*** – Black Country patois for the word great.