A stage set for some dystopian opera? A playground for leprechauns?
I get (as in "understand," not "receive") the firewood. In fact, it's the one thing that changes all the time what with wood being taken out for burning and new wood coming in for storage. But the rest? Stacks of discarded roof tiles, concrete blocks, old broken roadside bollards, steel barrels, rusty machinery, and piles of gravel and sand. All neatly organized and occasionally rearranged ever so slightly.
OCD
ReplyDeleteUm... And you weren't invited? How fortunate.
ReplyDeleteWhat's odd too is that after all these years, you still don't know to whom this jumble belongs. With all the walks you and Ken take daily, you'd think one of you would have seen the 'artist.'
ReplyDeletea squirrel playground?
ReplyDeleteWhatever happened to the donkey next door?
ReplyDeleteIt's a happening, man. Cool. Far out.
ReplyDeletepaul, perhaps.
ReplyDeletemitch, I rarely go out in the evenings any more.
sheila, I think he may live on the next road over, just down the hill from the site. We've seen him, but not very much.
anne marie, as good a guess as any! ;)
chm, the donkey(s) are still there. We see them from time to time.
emm, groovy.