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In the dark of river bends, in the slow meander of deceit, in the closed still autumn mist, Freddy and Joyce with poles in hand, propel the craft into the stream.
The parrot chirps, he chews a nut then begins to chew upon the mast.
The squawking parrot knows it all, the secret keeper of this land, of wine and river, war and love, and dreams men brought to river bank; alas they tried to build them. Part family saga, part love story, told over three generations by an undeliable parrot, a most marvellous tale.