|Out the London Road|
We are wet here in the West Country. After last weekend's unusually long deluges and wind, the constant patter of a slow soaking rain is almost reassuring.
|The path stops at the river.|
What better way to spend the early evening than meandering around the edges of the the countryside?
|At least I think it's elderflower|
And stopping to smell the elderflower.
|The leaves look like elderflower|
The farmers and the plants are still desperate for rain.
|The Toll Bridge at Bathampton|
Sometimes I walk out this way
|The countryside boarders the river and the road.|
To be reminded how far the river travels.
|How to capture rain drops?|
or to see if there are any ducks among the reeds,
|The Bathhampton Inn|
And to watch the river falling.
|There is no toll for walkers|
Before turning toward the hill
|Who lives here?|
And heading home.