The Lune

Fed up with battling the Lune, Ken decided to tackle something more manageable.

I was intoxicated by the rare appearance of warm sunshine at lunchtime when I emerged from Kirkby Lonsdale  (having spent some time trying to herd escapee sheep with GP's and surgery staff ... as you do in rural Cumbrian surgeries) and, continuing the poorly theme I decided to soak up five minutes of sunshine at Devil's Bridge before heading back to the office. As I ate my sandwich I watched what seemed like the world's bee population feeding hungrily on the ivy, leaving no doubts about the importance of ivy at this time of year.

I've spookily realised I called him Ken which was the name of my cousin's action man that I thought was more interesting than the Sindy I inherited (I cut her fingers off ...and have never been forgiven). 
Freud would have a field day.