Is that metaphorical?

Because they’re shooting pheasants round home this morning and Ellie hates the noise – she runs back if I try to walk with her – we drive a couple of miles to some National Trust countryside.

As we leave the carpark the river is high. I hope there isn’t a sudden surge and car is washed away.

The river is high as we leave the carpark

There's no sign however of what Frog calls ‘witches’ knickers’ – the pieces of plastic bag draped over trees by flood.

'Witches' knickers' (in May 2012)

There are lots of other people around and the paths are muddy, so I go off piste and head for ‘my’ island.

But it’s gone. All there is to show for the grassy knoll where Ellie and I have spent several happy hours is a band of ripples and some grass-tops.

Grass-tops and a line of ripples: my one-time island

Ellie is as surprised as me.

Ellie wondering where the island has gone

We find another spot to sit and I watch the scudding clouds and the racing river - keeping an eye out for flash floods. The sky is like a friendly giant and I wonder why humanity ever wanted to tame nature.

When we get home I tell Frog what's happened to the island.

'Is that metaphorical?' he asks.