Mud

I have to work at the pages all weekend, so there isn't any hope of escape other than for dog walking. It's dry today but has rained on and off for over a week and the mud is ubiquitous, thick, wet, sticky, the grass sodden and squelchy. Going along the usual path this morning, I slid, slipped dramatically and was 95% down on my arse when a 5% chance - Paddy, on the lead, saw a black labrador ahead of us and lurched forward - saved me from disaster.

The light was really yellow, illuminating the branches and lighting up the puddles.

Later on the walk the sky greyed over again. I liked this tree silhouette along the tarmac path

The river, ordinarily a shallow, murmuring and sweet-watered burn where the urban heron fishes for brown trout, was transformed into a coffee-coloured torrent and was making so much noise that the big brave retriever was hesitant about crossing the footbridge.