Waste land?

The waters are beginning to recede from all the rain we've had this year, but it's left quite a muddy mess behind.

I picked up C today ( as I was at home again ), and decided a quick detour by the Frome was needed to try out the new lens on the camera.

Not sure why but this scene just had me thinking of The Wastelands by T.S. Eliot.

What are the roots that clutch, what branches grow
Out of this stony rubbish? Son of man,
You cannot say, or guess, for you know only
A heap of broken images, where the sun beats,
And the dead tree gives no shelter, the cricket no relief,
And the dry stone no sound of water. Only
There is shadow under this red rock,
(Come in under the shadow of this red rock),
And I will show you something different from either
Your shadow at morning striding behind you
Or your shadow at evening rising to meet you;
I will show you fear in a handful of dust.

Trying to go back to work tomorrow ( my eyes are looking a lot better ), but I'm worried that this blasted virus has done something to my throat (again), as it's looking very swollen - although it's not too painful.