Autumn Morning The jetty is deserted in the sun. Warm light streams to the river-bed, catching the lines of feeding fish, bright on the warm sand, seen clearly through unruffled water, their movements matching the slow currents, threading the new growth over tyres, cables, cans, all shown lying still in growing weed, changing fast into the stuff of the river. Bars of gold sun fall on them, holding the shrimps, the mussel shells, the lives all overlooked. Martins dart past to their nests under t…
