Ratty peered out from her riverbank home across a moving river on a summer’s evening. She kept homes on both the East and West side of the river, for practicality, not out of any desire to be thought of as grand.
Small fish were active this warm day, breaking the water, even leaping clear of the surface, in pursuit of mayflies and midges. They weren’t her taste though. She was more interested in the rushes and grasses, and still more interested in the blackberries that were to look forward to later in the year.
Though her eyesight wasn’t the best, her hearing was perfect, and she marvelled at the array of sounds the birds were making in the trees. Through the mixture of noises her tiny round ears could detect blackbirds, wrens, and wood pigeon.
But nothing stood out more than the incessant call of the local Chiffchaff. “Will he ever settle down?” thought Ratty, irritably. As the chiff-chiff-chaff-chiff-chaff continued, she looked across the summery river, and longed for winter when she might get a little more peace and quiet.
I thought that was maybe a more fun way of saying “I spent this evening watching the local water voles”!
If you want to judge for yourself if ratty was just being, well, ratty, you can listen to the exact sounds she was hearing this evening: