The cool trickles of water you hear on your walking travels.
In spring they indicate a freshness of life.
In the summer they are a psychological respite from the heat of late afternoon sun.
In autumn they just seem miserable.
As for winter, cold water touched by ice a embodies purity and stillness.
As it is autumn, there is a dampness around after a late evening downpour that is only intensified by the sound of water trickling off every surface. It inspires nothing more than a need to get home, warm and dry. If I were more adventurous today I would probably blend some fresh raspberries with some elderflower cordial, maybe warming it in the microwave into some kind of fresh fruit tea, but yet again apathy gets the better of me and I accept the ubiquitous yet intensely refreshing sensation of fresh tap water. Sometimes, even with the best intentions, you just can’t be bothered doing a bloody thing.