Riverside Diaries #2

Mid September: overnight, after many muttery months, the river has finally recovered its full voice, brownly stained, and wafting the dank musty odour of a finally flushed out summer. In London tonight, the Thames will be celebrated with a Hindu Ganga Aarti thanksgiving festival of light. So at dusk, I shall fish out an old pack of sparklers to show my gratitude to the dear old Wyre - a wise and tireless companion for over fifty years. Always such a good listener, too - absorbs it all and safely sweeps it away amongst the rest of its accumulated gabbly gossip.