Category Ordinary water features

Tadpole

The sandy path feels good, cool on my soles. I round the bend and there, under the thorny tendrils of a wild rose bush, lie the bottoms of two bare feet, tiny and black with dirt.

Sweat

Sweat trickles from the band round my brow into my ears and down my cheek. The back of my hand, as I wipe my face, smells of dirt, more sweat and the oils of well-used, well-kept tools.

Run

Ralph’s eyes are soft, his smile gentle, reflecting my own. Making my way through the herb garden to the kitchen, I stop to pluck a bit of lemon thyme and crush it against my nose.