Our daughter is back from university, and on a sweltering sunny day, she asked if I wanted to go for a walk around the park after I returned from work.
As we were crossing the bridge over the Itchen river, it occurred to me that it was time for ripening cherries (we have a small but prolific tree in our front garden).
I suggested a short detour through St Denys, where we had collected cherries before. The tide was low but it would return the next morning.
Our luck was in and the timing was perfect, the trees we looked at had lots of ripe fruit and the birds were starting to pick them off, making a mess on the pavement. We grabbed a few by reaching up as high as we could and shoving them directly into our eager mouths, then vowed to return the following morning, armed to the teeth with fruit pickers.
Bright and breezy the next day, we filled our collecting box to the brim, whilst still stuffing our greedy mouths with whatever we could manage. We then zipped out for a lovely paddle board down the river, joined by our son, before finally bringing home the booty, or what was left of it any way.
