We were on the banks of the Thames. We’d needed a license. It was our first attempt and I don’t think I’d do it again. My friend immediately found a Victorian ring and some pottery. I was jealous of her finds. I’d found a ring as well. It was glinting in the silt; that’s why I went over. It looked like a bundle of damp muddy clothes near them, there was a bag too. It all became quite surreal almost immediately so I don’t think I can even describe my finds. The police arrived quickly, they surrounded the whole area just as the reporters arrived. We were moved back to the road but had to wait to leave our details. They think she’d been in the water a while. There was quite a smell.

Celebrations with a new crowd after her big family party makes this birthday her last.

She’d chosen the place to make me well: we were safe from foxes, people and passing boats. A half-submerged shopping trolley wedged against the river bank distanced us from the university rowing teams speeding past. This year I could feel seven eggs nestling in my twigs and sticks. They took it in turns keeping them safe and warm. The undergrowth grew denser around me. A ball flew over from the park and bobbed like a bird on the water. Waterlilies appeared; yellow buds bloomed into flowers. The eggs hatched and they all left me for another year; that evening a storm that lasted all night raised the water level around me, but even in the torrential rain I held safe. I hoped they’d all found shelter. The next day the calm river reflected a morning sun and they unexpectedly returned to me. One sat on the nest with chicks by their side. The other took position on the bank and they both fell asleep. Even the furry pom poms couldn’t keep either of them awake. I could only guess what a night they’d endured. There were only two cygnets with them.

a hundred word story

ALT: a cartoon of winnie the pooh sitting on a tree branch

Discover the mesmerizing beauty of Vanessa Walsh captured by Taeden Hall. Adorned in vibrant tights by We Love Colors and stylish clothing by Gloomth, this photo will leave you inspired.

Picture the scene, it’s October 1st and Nanna has gathered us round to say she probably won’t be alive at Christmas. She wants to ‘do’ Christmas early. The farm understands and lets us chose.....