Fiction

Find The River

‘This must be what England is like’, she thought.

The green river meadow lay between fertile, rolling hills. Here, the river was little more than a trickle. Towering, green oaks stretched their ancient limbs into the light breeze. It would not have surprised her to see Rat and Mole picnicking on the riverbank.
Now and then, the bellow of a nearby bull could be heard over the incessant chatter of birds and frogs. Initially, she had turned down the opportunity to explore this sanctuary. She was thankful she had changed her mind.

This had been her first visit to the tranquil, picturesque valley.
She knew it would not be her last.


Text & image Copyright © 2018 Bronwyn Joy Hansen. All Rights Reserved.

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