Inundated

I take the back road this morning, both for some quiet reflection and to avoid the queues of cars driving slowly through escaped rivers now flowing over bridges in the Forest. Black waters inundate the roads but they remain passable with a care I abandon on some straights, aquaplaning from island to low island across the heaths. The concentration required to do this saves me from self examination. Like the water flowing across novel waterways, my reflections are fragmented by undertows and currents.