The estuary

I love it down her by the river when it’s still on a summers evening. You can get lost for awhile in your thoughts, distracted only by the odd rhythmic rattling from a distant passing motor boat, the background conversation of passerby’s and heavy steps and breathing of a sweaty jogger.

The air smells and tastes different at this time of day. There’s a waft of honeysuckle on a faint ebbing breeze balanced by the musky estuary mud.

I find I’m presented with that still moment that I lavish in… just before the midges arrive to feast.