Literally, as you will see from one of my photographs below! Our beck (which flows between the two rows of alders in my new header photograph) is behaving in such a show-off way, thinking it is the Ouse and spreading out wherever it gets the least opportunity.
It is a nuisance, as many of these places involve the lane so that one has to keep slowing down and making waves. But in some places it just spreads out into the surrounding low-lying field.
We have huge numbers of semi-wild ducks which have been bred specially for the duck shooting. At the end of the shooting season, the end of January, those which survive and live to fight another day, just disperse and go completely wild. Meanwhile, they descend upon our friend opposite and make their way in a waddling mass for his corn store, hoping to squeeze through any gap in the door and get a free meal rather than make the trek back to their feeding station, much further away from their watery playground.
I always hope that huge numbers survive. What is the point in shooting a duck which has hardly anything on it when it is plucked and prepared for the table? But then I have always been known for my contrary views - I can't think what all the fuss is about because we have lost the Ashes - it's only a game isn't it - and weren't we brought up to understand that it is playing the game that matters rather than whether we win or lose? But that's another story.