It teemed down all night and morning, abating at lunchtime and leaving behind the sort of steam-filled day that takes all the creases out of your trousers. Not at all walking weather. I had the fidgets on me anyway so I got the train to Bolton and the buses up to Ramsbottom for a potter about. The train arrives a couple of minutes after the 480 straight to Ramsbottom has left so I had to get the bus to Bury and the 472 to Ramsbottom.
I had a bit of a potter about in Ramsbottom. It's only a little town and if you can ignore the cars and prices it is forever 1957. The bus was held up at the level crossing for a steam train to leave the station and head for Rawtenstall. Jackdaws and woodpigeons lumbered about on the rooftops. A bunch of mallards tidied up the picnic area by the Irwell. It was all very nice.
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| The mallards had noticed me |
I had a look at the little pond on the corner of Kay Brow. I queried the wisdom of this when three dozen mallards took the the water and swam my way with "Feed me!" in their eyes. I hid behind some Canada geese and beat a hasty retreat.
On the way home my latest last swifts of the year wheeled over Langworthy as the 52 bus headed for the Trafford Centre.
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