Beneath a rope swing, somewhere on the Great Ouse between Kempston and Great Denham: Friday. I set off, looking for the gravelly old ford. I remembered how shallow it had been, even it less drought-stricken years. I didn't find it, but I did find this 'beach', which was patronised by a young rappers and older dog-walkers. No one used the swing when I was there, but several dogs swam and fetched balls. The evening's horseflies made me curtail my sketching. |