Today I took a walk to Penn pond.
I listened as the breeze gently rustled the leaves of the trees.
Was it a sudden influx of birds that were contributing their song?
At the pond the ducks were squabbling over some thrown bread, their raucous cries some how louder than normal.
There was an occasional ‘bloop’ as a fish quickly surfaced and snared an insect.
Murmers of conversation carried across from outside the Red Lion. Had my hearing levels been restored to the levels of my youth?
Was I suffering Betjeman fever. Was I in love again? Had Mary Berry baked a cake especially for me?
Alas, it was none of these. The road menders had closed the main road and for a few short hours I had entered a time warp.
Soon voices were raised; the trees swayed silently; the birds were once again forced to compete with the traffic so that only the ducks were heard, and I suppose the fish carried on blooping!
Ah well, it was nice while it lasted. — Derek Mills, by email
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