Summer snow on a Sunday afternoon



The fuzzy blossom that I cycled through like fluttering rains a few days back now carpets the floor.


The geese are still out foraging among the picnickers. Looking for a hand out they mistake my camera for bread.



A yacht overturns and there’s a momentary scurry as other boats come to the rescue sails snapping in the stiff breeze of the lake.


Meanwhile families, lovers, crazy teenagers and grinning boys take to the water.


I amble down the inviting paths and enjoy a secret, dappled enclave with the swans.


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