When my best beloved was a little girl, she and her mum called willow herb "Maggie Anne's weed", for reasons best forgotten. We've tied up today at a CRT 2 day mooring where Maggie Anne could have gathered her fill.
A couple of days ago I wrote about the isolation of our spot in the Warwickshire countryside. That was before the evening brought out a load of boy racers on a nearby main road, and a kennel full of dogs began to give tongue for a couple of hours. This bit of the Ashby may well be a little like that but, for the most part, it's a much more pastoral affair.
The farmers have been making use of the hot weather.
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