I’ve been trying to eke out and make the most of the last days of summer. Over the weekend we went to a chilli festival. One of us ate a bratwurst and the other a brownie for lunch, while sitting, then lolling full and content on the grass in the warm sun. (Well, calling it grass might be exaggerating rather since most is closer to hay, after the hot summer we’ve had here.) We chilled listening to a mariachi band, who made us laugh and cringe at the same time! I’ve always loved Don’t you Want me Baby? by the Human League, but I’m not sure I ever need to hear a mariachi version again.
The photos above are from another garden visit, on Sunday, to Cerney House Gardens. It’s the time to go while there’s still some colour. As you see, the dahlias and sunflowers are absolutely stunning, vividly coloured and a real shot of brightness amongst what was mostly over and overgrown borders, as you’d expect at this point. The calendars and school terms are now telling us it’s the beginning of autumn. Today it’s pouring and it does feel like it. But that’s the meteorological point of view, the scientists’ neat way of dividing up the year.
In the astrological calendar autumn begins from 23rd September this year. Normally around 21st September the first day of autumn is marked by the equinox – when daylight and dark hours are equal. The word equinox comes from the Latin aequus (equal) and nox (night). This year here it’s Friday 23rd. There’s other info about autumn on the Woodland Trust website, here.
I’m so glad that yesterday evening it was dry and warm, so walking trainers on and up to the fields for a 2 1/2 mile loop. Ambling along, we stopped to pick the last few tart juicy red plums which are high up on the little trees, but we turned our noses up at the damsons which looked quite withered, and anyway are always too tart to be enjoyable eaten raw. The blackberries are a mix of mostly sweet and juicy, but it’s a real lottery and sometimes they shock the senses. The brambles must go down deep into the soil. They don’t seem to mind the lack of rain. They’re abundant as usual. I lamented the lack of a tub and suggested chugging down the last of our water on Sunday, thinking we could fill the water bottle with berries to freeze. Apple picking won’t be far off now and I fancy baking an apple and blackberry pie, or crumble.
I’ve just started reading a summer holiday type of book, although I love the change from summer to autumn I still have this feeling that I don’t quite want to let summer drift away. I’m in denial though; right now I’m standing in the conservatory dictating this into my iPhone and I can see the buckets and bowl we put down to catch rainwater are absolutely brimful. It seems a pointless exercise as the flowers and plants have been well watered already, with the terrific thunder and lightning rain storms we’ve had the last couple of nights. And it’s due to rain all week anyway.
We paused what we were watching last night and came in here. The lightning lit up the whole of the dark garden, while I shrieked “Don’t touch the edges of the conservatory, in case we get struck by lightning!” It was really dramatic as the storm raged overhead. Stood in a little metal and glass box, alternately light and dark, it was a little bit scary.
I feel so sorry for the fairs which are coming for their annual visits to the towns and cities around. Torrential rainstorms are going to be terrible for business, but I am glad it’s finally raining. Maybe the grass will be green again.
A few sips of water, a good look around in all directions. I took a few photos and then we went on for the next part of our walk.
There used to be a couple of fallen tree trunks which were lovely, clean and smooth off to one side of the green crossroads. Lying on the grass. They were removed sometime in the early year. I still miss them. During the first Lockdown last year, when we were only allowed to see people from our households and nobody else, not even social bubbles (the term had yet to be invented, our poor isolated elderly and vulnerable people) we came across a few teenagers there. From their furtive looks at us I guessed they were sneaking out to meet up and socialise, as an illegal part of the allowed daily exercise. I couldn’t really blame them, although it was all such a worrying time and no one really knew what was ahead. Anyway, I miss sitting on those tree trunks. After avoiding the roots, stones and ruts of the lane it was always good to have somewhere to sit and relax for a moment, or five.
We saw a red kite with a huge wingspan being chased by two or three crows around that tree. It always amazes me how crows can be so aggressive to such a scary looking bird. Confidence or aggression in numbers? They must be highly territorial when in a flock (a ‘murder of crows’ is the collective name after all!)
Someone had started to walk on and hadn’t come back around the corner with me. So, I called that he should; because there were very big juicy fruits that I couldn’t reach, which could be all his if he wanted.
For some reason when we come out of that narrow overgrown path and walk along this field edge, we always remember the surprise of passing a teen during Lockdown in summer, last year. She was wearing noise cancelling headphones, had a brightly coloured backpack on and was so confidently tramping along. She’s really stuck in our minds and we’re not quite sure why. I think maybe it was because she was so incongruous. It looked like a route she walked regularly, like she was going to visit a friend or something.
I needed to lean against a big five-bar gate to reorientate, before we turned left for the third part of the walk. I heard a sound and turned around to see a man-child throwing a chunky stick into a tree, followed by the sound of things clunking to the ground…
The next part of the walk went along a hedge to our left, which has occasional trees interspersed among the bushes. The field on our right gently slopes down to a stand of trees. This is where we watched a young muntjac deer wander earlier in the year. This time there was no peaceful little deer wandering, instead we disturbed about a dozen pheasants in the hedgerow. They took off right in front of us, flying and squawking in alarm. They made me jump. I took up in the air, flying and squawking in alarm too! Someone found this all rather funny.
We crossed a road and plunged into the start of another green lane. This is an ancient byway which used to lead commercial travellers from the Midlands to London. We call the start Freezer Corner because unfortunately sometime ago someone dumped the contents of the freezer under the bushes near the road. They must have pulled up their vehicle and just thrown it all out. Some were probably opened by foxes, others were intact. For quite a while we noted the disintegration of the packaging of once frozen lasagna, fishfingers and a carton of ice cream etc etc. Then it was cleared away. A friend asked if we had reported it all. I’m ashamed to say neither of us even thought of it (though someone else obviously had) partly because it was so fascinating watching the food and packaging disintegrate in the wild. But what an awful thing to do, and why? Why not dump it into a bin? Was it an act of revenge? You’ve hurt me, so I’ll empty your freezer? Weird.
A little handful of emergency almonds to crunch, hunger was coming on with a vengeance now, it was way past lunchtime. There’s a few miles to go.
We paused at the top of the field and heard very, very loud unselfconscious singing coming from some distance away in the shady lane. As it’s stubble now we preferred to walk out in the open field, to keep feeling the sun and wind on our faces. The singing was hilarious. She obviously had headphones on and was belting out JoJo’s Leave (Get out). I glimpsed her; a grey haired lady walking a lurcher, definitely getting something out of her system. Good for her!
In the last part of our walk, in a field not far from home we looked for the dead adder that we came across last week. It’s gone. I’ll pop the pic I took into my Taking Stock post at the end of the month, if I remember. That was quite a sight. That and seeing a headless pigeon made for a memorable walk.
Home and a late-late lunch of cheese & biscuits, apple & grapes. What a great walk, so fab to go out-out again.
An autumn walk wearing T-shirts! In October! It was really special because Someone was off work mid-week for a few days, and so on Wednesday we grabbed the opportunity to go for a longer walk. It was a beautiful day, about 19° and very quiet. I think we only saw a couple of joggers in the middle and then a couple of dog walkers at the end, it was 3 o’clock by then.
We took our time. I went slowly, took lots of photographs and really looked around. It was the first longer walk, at 6 1/2 miles, that we’ve done since August because I’ve been feeling so unwell. We’ve managed the hour-long loop around the fields near home a few times, but this was a proper jaunt.
To begin with I felt quite unbalanced, especially as the initial part of the walk begins alongside a road. Walking along with cars going past felt quite disorientating. But once we were on our own walking along the footpath and bridleway, everything seemed easier.
I wish that I could go back in time, morph into an invisible being, to see the people and listen to what they talked about as they tramped along this lane. I’d like to know what they bought. A length of ribbon to decorate a new bonnet? A packet of sugar, or flour? A long saved for book? A twist of salt? Or did they just go to the pub and then stagger home again. Stumble, trip, stumble, trip!
I turned back to take this photo at the end of the lane and then enjoyed being out in the open again. Surrounded by countryside, with long views across newly ploughed fields, a distant village with smoke from a bonfire rising into the sky. At this point you are at a green crossroads and can go one of four ways. We have tried all, but our favourite is the one, which with several more turns takes us in a big 6 1/2 mile loop. It ends with a hill right to our front door. A downward hill, is definitely the best kind at the end of a good walk.
This afternoon we wandered down to the station and to my excitement a new looking GWR train whooshed into the station, bound for London. So tempted for a split second to jump on, especially when we talked to the ticket collector and she said there were only three passengers on board…I’m really missing London, or going anywhere really. My feet are always itchy.
Then we found a new to us bridleway. I don’t know about you but in a quest to find local walks we have discovered so many bridleways and footpaths. But then we are lucky to be living in a paradise for walkers and cyclists.
It was an exhilarating walk on a very windy day, with absolutely stunning views west and rippling fields of wheat.
Praise be that the toilets were open, or at least the gents (ladies in the locked waiting room) and we could both use it on our return. We both marvelled at how it was the first public toilet we’ve been in for a long time!
Then to the Co-Op for tonic and he found orange sticker sausages for the win.