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Easter Monday
It was not only unseasonable weather it was sunny, warm, a pleasant breeze and abank holiday. With over 30 boats enjoying the weather including, Russ, Steve, Dean & Cameron and many others on windsurfers. Stuart getting his boat out and cleaning it all on the same day, whilst the wayfarers had a round the island easter egg race, won by Sam Amy and John H.
Thanks to Simon, Keith and others for acting as safety when necessary.
A few photos from the day.
Poem from Easter Saturday below
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Easter Saturday Morning
0630
A red disc slowly rises, colouring the mist on the lake pink.
From the mist emerge 2 Coots, surprising a lone patrolling Swan.
In the distance the roof of a trailer tent, pokes from the mist like a mountain through a cloud.
As the mist clears & rises to a golden haze, bow, stern and spring lines all become visible as reflections of moored boats become defined.
In the East the haze blurs the border of land and sky whilst to the west the blueness stretches to infinity.
Mast head burgees agree on a zephyr from the SW.
0700
Increasing warmth dispels the last of the mist and the whisper of wind departs to leave a 200 acre mirror.
A honey coloured blur of Labrador races a long the river
A young Dad, with son in one hand and a freshly filled kettle in the other wander silently back to their tent.
The silence is enormous; I can hear the warble of the Level crossing above the gaggling Geese.
And the prolonged rumble of a goods train tells me that some people are working.
As the silence descends again, a single Chaffinch searches the balcony for scraps.
The faint stripes of a mown bank are segmented by the harsh grey of concrete slips, bordered by a parade of wooden posts and the meandering of the lakes edge.
A single Heron flies across the lake pursued by its reflection.
Through the weeds and rocks clamber a crèche of Grey Lag Geese, 4 adult minders and 12 goslings.
They barely glance up when the silence is broken by the heavy machinery of Bell Webster, but the adults all stand smartly to attention as a flotilla of Swans slide into view.
Inquisitive juveniles come to investigate the fluffy balls of Goslings.
The minders gather their charges and the flotilla glides away.
Anon
