More river musings

A mist hung over the valleys as the long-forgotten sun rose yesterday morning. The river had lost its angry look and on the hill above the larches looked golden in the warm sun. For about an hour. And then it all changed and by early evening the trees were wild things lashing about, tugging at their moorings, water poured from the a black sky and the roads were awash. And the rivers once again rage seawards...