Mill-hopping
There was a sense of being in foreign parts today. A landscape and canal route usually familiar looked strangely different… It had been a quiet night, high on the aqueduct above Bollington. There is no traffic noise here and the few ducks about were too hungry to make a racket, unlike the Canada geese at Poynton on Thursday night. Then there had been frequent outbreaks of goose gabble after dark: “It’s well after lights out in the dorm,”...
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