Picnic on the riverside

There is a river that crosses the bottom of the farm. The water level is pretty low but with the amount of rain we’ve had recently it’s increasing quickly. The last time we went to the river, the day we found the sick lamb, we thought we should have a picnic so that’s exactly what we did. We packed up sandwiches, fruits and the obligatory bottle of local white wine and made our way past the polo pitch, climbed over the fence, through the prickly blackberry bushes and onto the river bed. We had to cross the river several times (with our shoes on) before coming across the ideal spot. The entire river bed and sides are pebbly and therefore not very comfortable but we found a soft sand spot just a few metres away from the river where wet set up camp. 

Needless to say there was no one around. We could just one farm house some 500m away, higher up on the hill. The people inside the house might have seen us but we couldn’t see them. We could just imagine, and that was probably not too far from the truth, that we were alone in the world. 

After eating and drinking we continued uphill along the river for a while. We walked slowly, soaking in our environment. It was all so simple and yet so magical. The simple things.