Shrouded In Mystery

As per usual this morning, as soon as he was up, Nigel went straight to the kitchen window to see what was occurring on “his” bridge …..

……. let’s just say he did several double takes and then another because, goodness only knows when they did it, but the island section of said bridge is now mysteriously shrouded under a huge sheet. It must have gone up in the middle of the night, as there is no way Nigel would have missed such an exciting and dramatic event if it had had been done in the day.

Well, forget Darrell’s most excellent full English, with beans served in a ramekin,  the little fella was down there before you could say “huge tarpaulin” to get a closer look.

From the looks of it we now have a new, currently sandbagged path leading under the bridge and the fields beyond, but it was the middle of the bridge, in all it’s constructional glory that had really captured Nigel’s imagination.

What wonderful secrets lay beneath those taut sheets?  How romantic would it be to be under there, doing what had to be done, away from prying eyes, in the middle of the river, where your only means of leaving was via Gordon or the ever flashing patrol boat moored in the marina. 

What does it feel like when the frequent trains to and from London go thundering over you, do you have to stop and cling to the scaffolding while they pass over and how do they erm…… take a leak break?

And that, believe me, are just a few of his many, many ponderings.

He’s not left the window since he came back up, his full English reheated and served on a tray. He’s desperate to see who or what  is going in and out of the erection  ……. hoping, perhaps, with Christmas fast approaching, there’s at least an inflatable Santa, snowman or Christmas tree as a festive thank you to all the neighbours for their patience and understanding ….. what planet is he on?