It was the kind of afternoon you dream about if you love reading about Uncle Silas, Mr.Polly or the Larkins. It was a hot, sun high in the bluer than blue sky afternoon. All you could hear were birds and when you got into the woods, glimpses of light streaming through the trees and onto a little wooden bridge. My idea of heaven. We followed the worn trodden path until we came to a clearing and then came to a little old brick humpback bridge over the canal. When I looked over the wall there was such a timeless sight, a barge making its way down the canal which was flanked by buttercups.
Bit by bit
5 days ago