Summer snow on a Sunday afternoon

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

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

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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.

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

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

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