Patrick on the bridge to Southover

As I was going to attend a workshop in Exeter on Friday I decided to visit my old friend Patrick H. in West Dorset for a couple of nights as I hadn't seen him since last summer. I had a delightful drive due south through Bath, then Shepton Mallet and Yeovil which takes you across rolling hills and vales in some of the prettiest parts of the West of England. The sun was shining brightly and I had prepared anew playlist for my iPod the night before much of which I sang along to loudly and mostly out of tune, but I didn't care.

Patrick gave me tea and we sat chatting together about this and that ands our differing aches and pains before we sat down to watch World Cup football. Before supper I suggested going for a short walk to the river Frome and Patrick joined me. He lives in one of three thatched cottages in a small hamlet of about ten houses and a farm set across the far side of the river valley from the main village of Frampton which lies on the main road. The whole area was occupied by the Romans who have left their mark in some old remains and earthworks including an amazing aquaduct which delivered a permanent water supply to the town of Dorchester. The old road up the valley came through Patrick's ham;let until in post-medival times the road was moved across to the other side of the valley and Frampton arose as the main settlement.

Nowadays this bridge from Frampton is the way to drive to Southover and its local lanes. I love its wooden superstructure which allows you to easily see the river flowing beneath along the reedy chalk bed in which trout swim and even salmon return to it more often now, at the right season. We stood looking upstream and watched the flies over the water and the ducks tending their many ducklings which were still quite young. Beside the river the villagers have a millennium play area for children and seating for rather older people to sit and watch the river flow.

A local woman whom he knew chatted to Patrick and after she left I took a few pictures of him enjoying the setting sun on one of the longest days of the year. He then left to put the spuds on while I walked a few hundred yards upstream to the woods you can see on the right hand side of the river. I was on the lookout for a kingfisher shot yet again as I have seen them upstream many times in the past.