I happened to look down at my wellies, and there nestling in the mud next to my foot was a gleaming silver object. I picked it up, and it looked like a man's wedding ring. 'I have found treasure!' I called to Betty, in a bid to entice her up the hill and away from her tree.
I was a little bit flummoxed by this ring, and how it got to be just lying in the middle of a field, and I felt sad for the man who had lost it. But then I got to thinking... maybe he had thrown it into the river in a rage, after finding out his wife had been having an affair, and it got washed up? Or maybe it was vital evidence from a crime scene, and he had tried to discard of it? Or maybe it just simply fell off his finger as he threw a stick for his dog? Was he a local man? Or was he visiting from a land far away? Was he a ghost? Or was he indeed a she with very fat fingers? Was it a ring from ancient times? Was it worth a lot of money? Or had it been won in a Christmas cracker? So many questions.
Betty eventually caught up with us, pretty uninterested with the treasure, and we made our way to the church just up the hill. I found a scrap of paper and left a note with the ring, telling of where I had found it, and then left it in the hands of the Gods.