The Mill
A Memory of Bordon.
As a boy myself and my friends would gather our fishing rods and tackle and bike to the mill for a day’s fishing, I caught my first trout standing on the big outlet pipe from the mill, another time we were there and one of my friend fell in off the big pipe, I can see him now bobbing across until he reached the ford.
The mill was also the place my sister and I would sneak off to on a Sunday so we didn’t have to go to Sunday school, we would take some bread and feed the ducks.
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