Mid January Jaunt

I went down to post a letter. Took my little green stopwatch and decided to walk 30 minutes one way then half an hour the other.
I had on thick red socks and my Nike Free 3 trainers, so decided to walk the road. Everywhere was squelchy mud. Mud that sticks to your shoes, sucks in your feet and squeals about it.
The fields look scrappy and the moles have moved in.
It was an impromptu walk so I was ill prepared with the rest of my outfit. A pair of baggy pants, a vest a sweater and a VERY BIG fleece that came free with some oil from the garage.
It was cold but not cold enough for me to be uncomfortable.

The first part of the walk had a weak, watery sun hidden somewhere behind the clouds. The golfers were out, they were chipping away on the damp green the blue sky was way, way ahead in the distance.
Farmer Pete has cut the hedges so all the hawthorn was uniformly flat. Split branches and ready for spring. The only green was the holly. Dark green, shiny holly. I even saw two berries hanging on for dear life.
Up the fitrst hill and the strea was loud, washing over the stones.
Two woodlands for sale – if only….
The dishevelled ferns, hang their forlon leaves, no iterest in anything yet. It’s lovely when they do decided to unfurl, but they clearly have their own agenda.
In between the dead brown Beech leaves and naked Silver Birches the Ivy wrapped itseld around everything in all its parasitic glory. Looking at the holly and the ivy it reminded me that it’s only been a month since Christmas.
Past the organic farm that always looks empty and down the hill towards the woodyard chock full of logs, if I ever thought I needed to nick a few that would be where I’d go – in the dead of – night – with a carryer bag, Except have you felt the wieght of logs. I’d be lucky to get home with three. Better to burn the chairs..
A muster of crows hung around a big Yew tree. I love it that a group of crows is sometimes called a ‘storytelling’ . They looked like they were telling tales this morning. One landed, one cawed, another flew away, and so it went on.
I saluted the single magpie, I walys do, superstition, daft I know. Then I saw a second in the distance so decided that the one for sorrow was acutally two for joy – I told you it was daft.
Down the hill and up past frogspawn field. Not its official name its what we called it when the childer were little and we bent over the hedge watching the sago eggs floating.
Up the hill and my little green clock peeped 30mins.
Because of the wet earth I decided to stay on the road, a huge wood pigeon flapped its wings which sounded exactly like the water running down the drains,. Then I thought however remote the roads are some bugger has been there and put in a sewage system, which was when I smelt exactly that. I don’t mind the smell of country pooh actually. The a buzz-saw buzzed and I thought it was a cow, there wasn’t one. Too cold. Never thought a buzz-saw sounded like a moo. Looking around for one the little train pooped pooped its way past. In that moment I had everything .The sounds, the smells and hanging on a branch in front of my very eyes a piece of wool flapping on a branch.
Past one field of sheep, looking like balls of yarn and then down the hill to the outdoor pursuit centre.
Always makes me feel like I’m in Canada; that I’m Kathy Bates and am about to make dinner for James Caan – who wouldn’t.
A couple of old geezers were skiing and then I got to my avenue. A squirrel, a robin and the smell of loamy earth. I had five minutes left on the clock. I wasn’t rushing though. Got to my lovely tree and pulled the branches apart to give him a massive kiss. I had put lipstick on specially so that I could leave my calling kiss.
Life was returned the post office van drove past, the cars driving in the distance and just as I got to the house where an old banker lives the sun came out. Not watery any more really brigth and shiny.
For 27 years I have nodded at our banker but he is now absent with Alzheimers. His wife is bent from it. Their beautiful house is still full of antique furniture and expensive silver but it makes no never mind now, he cant remember anything and she cant enjoy it.
It got me thinking about not taking anything with you and living life to the max
.
Had a weep at my tree, I always do, thats why we tree huggers are mainly healthy we get rid of all our grief and sadness leaving the root of our troubles at the root of our trees.
I set the clock for one more minet and 61minutes later arrived home bang on.
Scraped of my shoes, and put on me mung bean soup. Then my little student gardener arrived.
She’s nursing two wobbly teeth, a sunken eye socket a hugely swollen cheek and the possibility of a brain scan. No she wasn’t mugged she plays hockey. Remind me thats another game to strike off my list.
We talked about colour and scent and Japanese Zen gardens and she left.
The soup is done, and am about to have my first meal of the day with a pile of greens and a bit of Linchtime news on the telly.
Oh I’ve just seens the time. No news just nosh and then get right on with writing. Right On….