As we drive back from Chester we pass over the small trout river Alyn which flows into the Dee a few miles downstream from us. By yesterday afternoon it had already burst its banks. The Mrs texted through a flood warning for the Dee and by the time the kids and I got home the waters, normally a good four or five feet below the old orchard, were lapping at its edges.
My friend C has retrieved his apple picker so I wielded a room and tried to knock what low hanging fruit we could find to the floor. There was some complaining from the younger generation as it was cold and wet but a bucket was soon filled up. That, I suggested, is likely to be the last apple picking of the year for pretty soon I expect the old orchard to be underwater.
