Some friends have a large stream that runs through their property. Whenever a tree falls or a log floats downstream and gets stuck, a logjam of sticks and, unfortunately, floating debris is created. Poor Santa didn't make it to see another Christmas.
Is that a bottle of Ripple next to Santa’s right shoulder? Maybe that’s why he’s lying in the mucky water…
– and bottles, and …
Reminds me of Tennyson’s poem The Lady Of Shalott.