Two workers were repairing it the day we visited—
one worker passing thatch to one on a ladder;
our friend Judy, a photographer, said
this was a favorite place for her:
the dovecote once bred
pigeons and doves for the dinner table: chambers
inside—when the manor house was inhabited—
filled with squabs and bird mating-pairs.
What happened? Why had it ended?
The two workers repairing
the dovecote now weren’t doing this for some heirs—
but a heritage foundation: all of the heirs were dead.
Judy took a photo of my wife, me, and her
with the two workers.
