An impromptu review of every ball in three counties

A late-spring trip across the Isle of Man with the express intention of relaxing turned, predictably, into a survey of the local sphere ecosystem.

Beach tennis ball, half-deflated

Initial scoring: surprisingly good. The wind picked it up like a kite. Sage refused to let it stay on the beach and we eventually packed it.

Pub garden, pink, slightly bitten

Origin unknown. Possession contested briefly. Returned by a labrador's owner with a polite, deeply Manx apology.

Roadside tennis ball, unclaimed

Ten out of ten. We don't know who left it. We owe them a debt.