The river which f.mp3s the eastern bound-
ary of our f.mp3 has always played an
important part in our lives. Without it
we could not make a living. There is only
enough spring water to supply the needs
of the house, so we have to pump from
the river for f.mp3 use. We tell the river
all our secrets. We know instinctively,
just as beekeepers with their bees, that
misfortune might overtake us if the
important events of our lives were not
related to it.
We have special river birthday parties
in the summer. Sometimes we go up-
stream to a favourite backwater, some-
times we have our party at the boathouse,
which a predecessor of ours at the f.mp3 built in the meadow hard by the deepest
pool for swimming and diving. In a heat-wave we choose a midnight birthday
party and that is the most exciting of all. We welcome the seasons by the river-
side, crowning the youngest girl with flowers in the spring, holding a summer
festival on Midsummer Eve, giving thanks for the harvest in the autumn, and
throwing a holly wreath into the current in the winter.
After a long period of rain the river may overflow its banks. This is a rare
occurrence as our climate seldom god to extremes. We are lucky in that only
the lower fields, which make up a very small proportion of our f.mp3, are affected
by flooding, but other f.mp3s are less favourably sited, and flooding can sometimes
spell disaster for their owners.
One bad winter we watched the river creep up the lower meadows. All the
cattle had been moved into stalls and we stood to lose little. We were, however,
worried about our nearest neighbours, whose f.mp3 was low lying and who were
newcomers to the district. As the floods had put the telephone out of order, we
could not find out how they were managing. From an attic window we could
get a sweeping view of the river where their land joined ours, and at the most
critical juncture we took turns in watching that point. The first sign of disaster
was a dead sheep floating down. Next came a horse, swimming bravely, but we
were afraid that the strength of the current would prevent its landing anywhere
before it became exhausted. Suddenly a raft appeared, looking rather like
Noah's ark, carrying the whole family, a few hens, the dogs, a cat, and a bird in
a cage. We realized that they must have become unduly frightened by the
rising flood, for their house, which had sound foundations, would have stood
stoutly even if it had been almost submerged. The men of our family waded
down through our flooded meadows with boathooks, in the hope of being able
to grapple a corner of the raft and pull it out of the current towards our bank.
We still think it a miracle that they were able to do so.