What's for tea Daddy?
Come on little one it's time we made our way home, we had a lovely walk all round the lake, caught a peek at the moorhen nest, this time, we saw her eggs, then on to the old chestnut tree to collect some conkers.
Claire tells me she is going to be the champion this year, as we reach the top corner we both stand and stare in amazement as two pure white swans glide in to make a perfect graceful land on the still waters, the late sun reflecting off the ripples in bursts of gold and silver diamonds, there is one final thing to do
I give Claire the bag of feed and watch her, as she feeds the ducks with their clutch of new chicks.
The sun as if trying to hold on to the last moment, begins to dip below the horizon, Claire swipes both hands as if playing the cymbals, wiping away any last remnants of duck food, reaching up to take my hand she smiles and says what's for tea Daddy?
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