Tuesday, 13 October 2009

Mount Ephraim, anticlockwise. 5.10pm.

A dog on a lead shaking its whole self from grey muzzle to white tail tip: Flapple-apple-jink. Lumpish heaps of damp vegetation slashed from the hillside have a riverbank stink.


Lucy said...

Did you mean it to rhyme?

Clare said...

No... I feel a bit silly for not spotting that!