The Untouchables

M and I had a very pleasant wander along a few miles of the River Foss in the countryside north of York. Part of our ongoing project taking images along the river’s length from where it joins the Ouse in York up to its source in the North York Moors.

Lovely late summer, sunny evening with much to do – trees reflected in dappled water, wooden foot bridges, big skies with fluffy clouds, ripe crops yet to be harvested, horses quietly grazing in remote pastures, and so on.

Then came the big shock. We were about a hundred yards apart and I saw M take a great leap six feet backwards – as if he’d been bitten by something...

M (eyes watering): “I’ve learnt my lesson tonight – don’t take pictures with your [insert rude word for male genitalia] resting against an electric fence.”