First time by this way I came, I waded through a streamlet deep
Second time by here I trudged through mud, residual of the water seep
Third time the ground was dry; I wondered why.
35 words. Written for Crimson’s Creative Challenge #40
This little place is locally known as Mud Hole… which is a corruption of Mud Hall, for a century past there was a hall, marked on the map, to left of here. Its bricks and mortar can still be seen poking from the accumulated muck and leaf litter.
In Roman times a stream rose south of here and flowed beneath these steps. That same stream still flows after heavy rains, fed now by buried field drains, the spout of one just visible beside the steps.