The Reservoir

The Lollopers - The dogs are running. Let them run, perfect, happy, endless, boundless bounding along in the sunset, lithe and eager, the joy of the chase, ever young, sure of foot, and mind. 

 The ground rises to meet them, the wind in their furry faces, the smell of thyme. A promise that in spite of everything, this will last. An antidote to the rattle and crush.