Despite the time of year, birdsong echoes around us, competing with the rush of the waters. Ancient willows stoop by the opposite bank, trailing whippy boughs. Beyond that, the trees thicken to woodland and the noisy chaos of a rookery. Close by, a squirrel scrabbles at frost-whitened turf, unearthing something, an acorn perhaps. Holding it between paws, he pauses to inspect his unexpected visitors, chitters at us indignantly, then dashes up a tree.
Ryan shoves hand into pockets. “What’s your first impression?”
“I’m… stunned. It’s…” I swing, waving arms out over the river. “It’s amazing.”
“But would you want to do it?” he insists. “Would you want to live here if we took the plunge?”
“Are you kidding?” I gaze around me at this neglected and forgotten Garden of Eden. “This is my idea of
