An afternoon in the meadow

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Finding myself at a loose end a couple of weeks ago, I took a stroll down to Burford meadow, a relatively small patch of land that encompasses a section of the River Windrush, as it meanders on its picturesque journey through the Cotswolds, before spilling into the Thames at Newbridge.

The meadow was sporting a good crop of buttercups, and a handsome herd of cows, so it was no chore to spend an afternoon wandering over the boggy ground, amongst the fresh spring growth.

The Puddle That Stays With Me, Always

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I took a little jaunt into the Cotswolds the other day and, inspired by the images of reeds and water I took a few days previously, whilst I was in Widford I forsook the natural beauty of the surrounding wolds and valleys, and found myself a nice big puddle to settle down with. 

And I have to say, our time together was some of the best of my entire life. We talked and laughed and dreamed our dreams, it was as if time had stood still for us. But as with all things, nothing can last forever, so in the end I had to say goodbye and move on with my life, plus I had to get home for my tea, it was fish fingers and spaghetti that evening, and I wasn’t about to miss it.

But I can’t seem forget that puddle, and something tells me I never will.

At least I have the memories…