One of those warm and sunny days you always hope for in September. Robins, chiffchaffs and tits of all kinds calling along the river. Butterflies in the woods and long grasses – tortoiseshells, a dinky meadow brown, whites, blues and speckled woods. Berries everywhere, and wild hops weaving through the hawthorn at the mill pond.
But best of all was this figure standing at the bow of a narrow boat. It passed me by the weir and from the side it looked like the spring-loaded metal head of a fox holding a bell. I caught up at the lock and it was actually a mouse playing a saxaphone (obviously!) I loved the bright plastic flowers tucked into the boots.
The owner had bought the original sculpture at a craft market and customised it. When I said I’d mistaken it for a fox he said actually that would be more appropriate as the boatmaker was called Fox. He might look into seeing if he could get one made specially.