The river,a silver ribbon.
Copper coloured streams,painted rusty red by the sun,seep from an old mine.
Birdsong fills the silence with energy
Springlike sun,a warm and gentle whisper,a promise.
Reeds sway in the breeze as the tidal creeks flow.
Yet snow lies still on the high peaks
Catkins shine golden in the sun.
The icy wind from the mountains,a sussuration in the reeds.
The river sings its song as it tumbles seaward.
Old quarry buildings stare blankly out to sea.
Shadows of memories in the shadowy slate,windblown whispers.
The buzzards lonely cry echoes.
Sun glints off a boat in the bay.
Blue sky highlights snow shadowed mountains,mirrored in the calm waters.
Quiet respite after the storms.
Low sun shines through hazy air.
Wind whips salt spray from high tide wave tops that splash over the sea wall.
Swans shelter in the fields.