He was the epitome of optimism. Either that, or he’d got the wrong day.
Waking on Sunday, I had to go to the window to inspect the unfamiliar view. Out of the soft greys and greens of early morning, I could see the river and the dark grey cliff opposite with a darker point of the church steeple above. It’s a pretty village, Newnham-on-Severn and most attractive of all from the opposite side of the river at the Old Passage, Arlingham.
But what really caught my attention was the dark figure standing by a lone car parked near the scrubby grass that leads down to the mudbanks and the river. He was getting his surfboard off the roof rack. Continue reading…
Boadicea's Chariot 