Where
the Huddersfield Road crosses Smithy Brook, in the shadow of a disused
grey brick viaduct, a row of capstones from the top of the wall
have been removed. I feel that a detail of history, a small part
of the character of our locality has gone.
While I bemoan the state of the countryside, Nature takes a less
discriminating view: even rubbish opens up a host of possibilities.
I guess I'm the sort of guy who would say that this jug was half
empty.
Backwaters
Last week's floods have subsided, revealing a low silty ridge,
colonised by Himalayan Balsam which has now been flattened by the
floodwaters. This ridge, once an island, is in part made up of the
rubbish that has been washed down the river along with the silt.
More assorted details of our everyday existence have been dumped
by the latest inundation: the remains of an inflatable plastic paddling
pool (or is it a dingy?) and a foot-square block of foam insulation.
On this two moorhens perch. Their long-legged youngster,
like some prehistoric bird ancestor, squats gawkily between them.
Where
the Huddersfield Road crosses Smithy Brook, in the shadow of a disused
grey brick viaduct, a row of capstones from the top of the wall
have been removed. I feel that a detail of history, a small part
of the character of our locality has gone.
