Trees overhead, muddy underfoot, listening to birds, squirrels, the hum of traffic invades from all directions.
The end of the weir flowing into the brook, many miniature waterfalls, beginning far away and ending here.
The mouth of the weir, a square vortex fed from a right-angled waterfall, water draining out from the lake.
A playground below, a grassy slope, children climb, slide and swing, pushchairs pass on the path behind.
At the waters edge, pigeons coo and flap, swans croak, seagulls squeal, faint stirring of water.
A seated areas beside the rose garden, set back into the a copse a proliferation of birds and passing families.