Our Sunday walk mooching along, the gold of straw in the distance. I hate to say it but this is the slow decline of summer, I check on the blackberries, still green. The river is so low I notice old stakes round a tree, the depth is probably down to a couple of feet, in winter it can rise to 13 foot.
Lucy has a spurt of speed, it is a game she plays with me, a biscuit at the end. She has also found the dead mole again, though I threw it into the undergrowth the other day. What do you do with a dead mole? Roll in it of course, refreshes the smell other things can't ;)
The last three photos show the river bank overcrowded with willows, Himalayan Balsam and that giant rhubarb leaf that invades the banks of the rivers. Of course the other plant that adds its tangle to of the hedgerow is the bindweed, must look it up.
The English farming scene is beautiful, one can never take it away but there are rants in the air about the political scene, so let me introduce you to the Artistic Taxi Driver defending Jeremy Corbyn.....