Perfect day

Sheep move through the long grass as if pulled by an invisible thread. Mature lambs follow behind, only occasionally breaking into a gambol. Greylag geese cackle and goslings cheep. They travel in family groups, each parent goose or gander performing sentry duties while the goslings graze, drink water, or simply lie on the grass stretching a leg every now and then. When the godling stand, flap their short wings, and then begin to waddle, it's hard not to laugh or to compare them to human toddlers (who don't even have wings). One family group with five goslings travelled close by to another group with three or four goslings. One brood was clearly older than the others, because the goslings were bigger. Both broods were still downy, though. 

I sat by the lake (the promontory was flooded,  the ground was soaking wet and covered in goose or sheep droppings) and gazed around me, or read, while the goose families came close to me. The only sounds were the drone of a distant ride,-on mower; birdsong; background hum of traffic; and a plane overhead. The lake was still. As we were in the setting of Frampton Court Estate with its stately home, I had the feeling of having travelled back in time to, say, Brideshead between the two world wars. (apologies if you haven't read  Brideshead Revisited by Evelyn Waugh, nor seen the 1981 TV series nor the more recent film). There were no strawberries, nor Sebastians, not Mr Darcy arising from the lake, but I was there for the tranquility and the goose experience, and that was delivered to me in abundance. 

Thanks to the sun for shining. I'll.put my blurry goslings shot in extras.