Stig of the Recycling Centre and a slodge around Snuff Mills

The trouble with cold, wet days in February is that jobs still have to be done and dogs have to dog (and take their owners with them). Thursday started with a trip to the tip with Son the Elder, where we saw this fox, who clearly has their paws under the table as far as snacks are concerned ... 

 

... and has done for a while, if this picture, taken by my friend Colin two years ago, is anything to go by. 

 

It was even wetter in the afternoon, but dogs - especially collies - need walking regardless, so Son the Younger and I decided to take Cwtch to Snuff Mills, where there are lots of trees to shelter under.

The River Frome running high and fast after all the rain

As usual at this time of year, beauty was in the detail rather than the overall loveliness of the place.

As the river was so full and the path very wet, we diverted up to Vassalls Park, but the going was no easier up there, the grass being pretty waterlogged ...

 

 

... so we dropped back down to the river alongside Stead's Stream, the brook that feeds it.

The Frome has burst its banks at this point. Cwtch took the high road ...

... while Son the Younger and I, who'd been so busy remembering to pay for our no-longer-free-parking when we arrived that we'd omitted to put our wellies on, picked our way along the side of the flooded walkway.

The river was still running fiercely, and it was interesting - and somewhat nerve-racking - to see how Cwtch's dislike of water was in direct conflict with her need to herd ducks.

 

 

Meanwhile the hazels still had one muddy foot in winter, one in spring - a bit like us, really.