Magical Bersham
A Memory of Bersham.
This waterfall held many happy memories for me as a child. I think I can remember every crack and name carved in its stone walls. I seemed to remember a rumour of someone dying in its centre parting, where the water cascaded furiously down to a deep area in the middle of the river. I never discovered the truth about this. I do know that the centre had been concreted over, to make it safer. The hiding places in this area were exciting. The woods opposite, were covered in bluebells in the spring . My father took us for long walks through the woods to the step waterfall by the church. There was also an old house in the middle of nowhere . It was knocked down after the old lady who lived there , died.
Dad ( Fritz Franke ) used to hide sweets in the grass and pretend the fairies had left them for us. What a magical place..like something out of Enid Blytons` books.
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