Work, followed by the pub.

The 10 minute walk into town changes an amazing amount with the weather, the seasons, and, interestingly, ones mood.

The rain had just ceased, the clouds were clinging to the trees on the sides of the valleys, and the grass had just been cut for hay. There was a lovely feeling to the place, an air of contemplation.

The pub was lovely. Well, the company was - we took the place over, and put our own tunes on the jukebox. After a few pints we took the walk home, just myself and Liz as the others drove back, and as we crossed the many-blipped suspension bridge, we heard an otter below. Snuffling like a dog, ripple in it's wake, a thin mist clinging to the river as the moon reflected on it's surface like a mirror.