Two dykes and a stopbank

The emptiness of our nest was brought forcibly home to me yesterday, when we went for a picnic and I only needed to make sandwiches for Ian, Janet, and me. Teenagers have their own agenda; sad but true!

We went to the Ashley River, and drove along the stopbank until we reached number xx (I could tell you but then I'd have to kill you) groyne. The pozzie was magic, the sun relentless, and the willows accommodating. We joined our neighbours, who have expert knowledge of the best holes, and swam in the balmy waters. Ian went on his usual intrepid exploring mission across the river bed. Janet was content to watch the action, although she fretted a bit about the suitability of the branch which supported the rope swing. Rightly so; I suspect that sometime soon, someone over 30 kg will drop gracefully in to the gently flowing water, and then be topped off by the branch itself...

The dykes were enjoying a beer.