Meander

I was terrible at Geography at school and dropped it at the first available opportunity.

However, it was from that subject that I first heard the word “meander”, which was used to describe the passage a river takes through a landscape. It’s rarely a straight line, the river “meanders” through. It’s a lovely word.

I’ve often waxed lyrical about being drawn to the Kent as it meanders its way through our lovely town and this point here on the bend adjacent to the park has become a favourite spot of mine. There’s usually something good to be found around the corner and it is a great indicator of the seasons, until fairly recently bursting with a multitude of greens and now it is slowly morphing into yellows, oranges and browns.

Matty always has to climb the same tree a little way (and always when we’re in a rush or its raining or one of us is busting for the loo) as well as tip toeing at speed along the edge of a small wall which borders the path. Her brother tends to be gazing into the water, eyes peeled for interesting birds (he’s a chip off the old block), whilst The Eldest and I have our wits about us to ensure that none of us are mown down by passing bikes or joggers.

Autumn is now tightening its grip on proceedings, which means warmer clothing, increased hot chocolate intake and curling up in front of the fire.

That doesn’t sound so bad, does it? I’m sure we’ll be able to meander our way through…