A Walk by the river...

The sun was shining today as I went for my walk and the
grey skies of February turned a robin's egg blue. The wind
puffed up white clouds and sent them scurrying, tweaking at
them as they ran, teasing a little here and a little there, turning
mountains into eagles, setting ghostly galleons adrift upon a placid
sea; tugged at my hair, buffeted my face until my cheeks glowed and
made me feel alive again. Rooks cawed and flapped noisily high in
bare-limbed trees. Somewhere a skylark hovered and trilled.
Spring was coming and there was excitement in the air.

I walked across the fields towards the bridge, the grass damp, springy
with new growth beneath my feet. I heard the river long before I saw it.
Swollen by two nights of rain, it gushed through the arches and swept
splashing and foaming over the rocks then sped away flooding into
the reeds and grasses beyond swirling in white capped eddies .