Chucking Stones

Chucking stones

We were out again on Sunday. It was overcast and gloomy. We were joined by some friends for a potter around to the Cove, where we bumped into some more friends. Rocks were scaled, the smelly cave was visited and many, many stones were thrown: some were slender, smooth and rounded, perfect for skimming elegantly across the pond-calm surface of the water, but most were great lumps of rock lobbed high to provide maximum splash. Beached detritus, flotsam and jetsam, was refloated and comprehensively bombed.

A couple of herons remained primed on the rocks nearby, despite the hullabaloo. A trio of red-breasted mergansers rowed serenely past, understandably steering a course that kept them well off-shore.

A welcome return of the photo project series of posts over on must be this way, has seen Andy discussing the merits of figures in (mountain) landscapes. Clearly, this isn’t a mountain scene, and I make no claims for it as a photo, but it will serve to remind me of a cold and potentially dreary couple of hours which the kids enjoyed enormously.

Chucking Stones