the flood waters recede. After three days of solid rain, it seems to have stopped. For the first of February, Imbolc, Brigid’s day, the sun has come back. I have seen butterflies, violet bees and the first speedwell and bugle flowers.
The ditch that runs from the field above down past our woodpile is a cascade.
The first morning sun in months. Feels like that anyway.
Between the ditch and the stream, the ground is under water.
This ditch was too deep to wade through in rubber boots yesterday.
It runs parallel with the stream, then bends left through the hedge to join the stream.
This is where all the rain water ends up—in the Caillou and the culvert that carries it beneath the farm track.