Tales of the Riverbank ...

  

It was a hot and muggy afternoon - the distant village paled in the heat haze.

Rain threatened.

 

We walked the canal towpath as narrow boats chugged past and flag iris dipped their roots in the cool water.

Rain threatened.

 



 



 

Hedgerow and tree were reflected; a double image.

 

 

Ewes and lambs took their afternoon siesta in the shade of the waterside oaks - a pastoral scene worthy of any Old Master. We heard the squawking of a heron gracefully flying overhead as ducks and ducklings idly paddled downstream.

Rain threatened.

 





 

We saw the rolling hills and alien bracket fungus and trees growing at jaunty angles almost as if they were being drawn to the water.  Campion and buttercup lined the path with purple pea vetch flourishing.

The rain came.

  



 

A gentle rain that pitter-pattered on the water surface - a rain neither here nor there. It was not until the middle of the night that it began to rain with force.  Dramatic- with added thunder and lightning for greater effect.  Hitting the windows hard and with vengeance.

Morning came in shades of grey - the sky still heavy with cloud and water.  The garden flattened and rain-soaked.  Pure and unadulterated; rain that seeped through the soil way down to the roots.

 

The garden and I say thank you.

You were desperately needed.



 And just as an extra bonus photograph I thought I would share with you a delightful creature that we saw in the front garden pecking at some grass seed we had put down to cover a bare patch on the lawn.  A lovely red legged partridge - soaking wet, poor thing - but what a nice surprise.



And to complete the story - an amazing sunset.

Elaine