In Rithet's Bog, one of our favourite places to walk, the colour is fading. The brilliant yellow, gold, and red leaves fall to the ground and become dull. Soon grey and brown will dominate the landscape in austere architecture.
Red-winged blackbirds alight onto exploded rushes that sway back and forth.
Rain fills the bog once again and the ducks return, swimming placidly among the weeds.
A few wigeon pairs have appeared amongst the mallards. They all seem to get along well.
An awkward skein of ducks alight on a sunny day. They circle, then land, forward thrusting feet acting as brakes on the water.
A family walk around the bog yesterday. The three-year old perches on Grandpa's shoulders. Two paths intersect and the train-loving boy calls out, "Junction!" The girl cousins run ahead for a bit, then fall behind and run to catch up, legs pedalling like windmills. They pick "woodland bouquets" along the path for their mothers.
By the end of the walk, I'm certain that the children have covered twice the distance of the adults. They finish up with a train formed by holding hands: smallest to biggest, with Grandpa included.
It was good that we walked yesterday. Today the rain fell off and on most of the afternoon. It was a good day to stay indoors. I read and puttered and took a nap. Tomorrow is a statutory holiday here, in lieu of Remembrance Day falling on a Saturday.
Linking with Mosaic Monday, hosted by Maggie of Normandy Life.