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It was a still evening and the tide was ebbing slowly. Away to the West, the sun glowed red and low behind the Holkham pines. If ever there was a night to swim in the green waters of Blakeney’s harbour channel…

I walked down to the old houseboat and swam back up towards the quay, against the tide, and with Bonzo paddling away beside me, lay back and let the cool evening water drift me back to my starting point.

In the distance, calling across the marsh from Cley, the first big skeins of geese were filling the sky with their clamour, speaking of seasons’ change.

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