Down to the River

A tradition is emerging. Slow, Sunday Spring mornings down by the river. 

The view up river. 

 The view down river. 

These river mornings begin with a very short journey in our old ute. Sir Steve dog, his enthusiasm knowing no bounds, barks "happy woofs" the whole way there as if to announce to everyone in our neighbourhood (and beyond) that he's going somewhere.

A walk!

A swing!

A turtle!

That somewhere is a local river, wide and deep. A gravelly walking track to follow, birds and fish and turtles to spot as one walks along. Swings to dangle from and rocks to hop across. And, most important of all, sticks to fetch over and over again!

Sir Steve dog playing fetch.

This favourite game, repeated over and over again, fills both stick-thrower and retriever with delight. It ends only when Sir Steve dog, drenched and having drenched everyone else with his wagging "sprinkler tail" and whole body shake, carries his stick beyond the river bank and returns, not to the river but to the ute, for the drive home.

These warm Sunday mornings, spent by the river, bring our boy and his very best friend to explore and to play together. I'm sure we'll make the short trip to the river often this Spring...and in many of the Springtimes to come.


 Meg