Summer is always a bad time on the periferies of small towns. You spend the whole year through wind, snow, hail and blow watching the life in field and forest. Spring arrives, the birds are nesting, activity everywhere. Then the local tourists come out, scaring off nesting birds, leaving litter, generally spoiling things. It isnt long before you find yourself longing for cold and rain to keep them in and leave the animals, twitchers and anglers alone.
You walk in field for solitude and to observe only to find some noisy locals showing visitors the surroundings they know so little about.
No comments:
Post a Comment