The water was cold.
Ok, not icy as such - it hadn’t frozen over - but his legs stopped feeling anything within seconds. Pulling them out proved more painful than pushing them in.
Sill, as he rubbed life back into them, he got to admire the warm spring sunshine and the blue promise in the sky. Bird song confirmed that the season had changed.
That or he had forgotten their feed once again.
A deckchair from the previous summer stood rotting in the wet grass, the dew was heavy, the nights still chilled.
A cat sauntered past.
And was that a bee?
He walked over to the lemon tree – four ripe waiting to be picked, new flowers, new growth.
Lemon for breakfast?
Or toast.
The dilemma of the early riser.
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