Hilden Brook

23 June 2013

  There is only one thing to do on a Sunday morning: go for a long walk. Dee arrived (and Maisie too) at around 8am, for a walk along the River Medway and over the Hilden Brook. The weather looked reasonable and the forecast was for showers. We took a route through Golden Green to the Medway and at the old World War 2 pillboxes by the lock, we turned toward Tonbridge. Every few metres, there was a fisherman, each with carts and bagfuls of equipment to cover every eventuality. They were discussing the merits of homemade ground bait and other such things of import. Very different from the rod and line and bread paste of my youth.
  The mature growth at the river bank was flattened by the weather; Skullcap and Yellow Archangel prostrate. But Stinging Nettles stood proud and firm and out to get the unawares. Damoiselles fluttered and flitted among the reeds. At the Town Lock, Dee saved a life: a Bumble bee was struggling on the surface tension of the water in the lock. Dee took my walking pole and offered it to the bee which promptly climbed on and was put down gently on the bank.
  We arrived in Tonbridge to music and crowds for a carnival, featuring dragon races on the river with canoes stuffed with men like sardines in a tin, ready to paddle furiously. We left the hubbub behind as quickly as we could for the Hilden Brook. The Sun had peeped out and the temperature rose as we arrived at a peaceful spot by the brook and sat in the long grass with Cuckoo Spit and White Dead Nettle, to drink tea and coffee. The meadow was alive above with swinging and swooping Swifts and Swallows and clouds of midges dancing in the sunlight. Here, there was Grass Vetchling, scarlet droplets among the Buttercups.
  Bordering the meadow, Elder was in blossom, the flowers like plates of clotted cream and Dog Roses tumbling down the hedgerows, making up for lost time. We left this idyll for Coldhanger and the long ride through copses to Dean Park Woods. The Horse Chestnut blossom is suddenly gone and now the immature nuts are forming a conical mace. We were caught in a sharp shower near Tinley Farm and as I had removed a layer, my back was liberally soaked. At this time, I received a text from Kay, saying that Dee had left her car door wide open. Dee said, oops! And I said, what a plum!
  In Dean Park Woods, the boles and twisted arms of the Hornbeam were moss covered; dark, damp and mysterious in the shadows and the ponds were green with Duckweed. In Clearhedges, the path was dappled in sunlight and we were led to the Skylarks and home.

Cloudy Solstice

21 June 2013

  Kay woke me at midnight from a sweaty, fitful sleep. After preparation, I left for Coldrum Longbarrow at 12.30am. A ghostly Moon and Virgo were behind me in the southern sky. Ahead, the cloud was building. Leaving the village and the street lamps, it was quite dark, but not enough to use my head torch, until I reached Oxen Hoath. Lambs were bleating and a few night birds called, then all was silent. The dew on the long grass wet my legs through the parkland and the cow's spectral eyes watched me in the torch light. I followed the Walnut trees to find the Weald Way path.
  There was no light under the canopy in the wood at Gover Hill. I hadn't packed a spare lamp, so I hoped the batteries lasted the night. The silence was a little unnerving; all the night creatures made no sound, not even an Owl hooting. The cockerel at the stables was, for once, silent and I went through the gate as quietly as possible so as not to wake him. There was a bright orange Sulphur Polypore mushroom growing from a large Hazel tree close to the Old Saw Mill. The tree is done for!
  I now took my map from my bag: I didn't want to go off course tonight. Through Platt and the wood, up over Gallows Hill and I could now hear the M20 motorway.  It was comforting to see the WW way-markers from time to time. The path running parallel to the motorway was so overgrown, that nettles stung my legs and hands and brambles tore at my fleece. Rabbits scattered from my torch-light as I went under the motorway and through the sand pits.
  As I entered Ryarsh Wood, a bird began to sing and as I left the wood, the World was awake. At Coldrum, there were perhaps a dozen people sitting around a camp fire (NO FIRES! NATIONAL TRUST PROPERTY!) in the half light. We greeted each other and I made myself a cup of coffee. I had plenty of time; Sun-rise was at 4.45am. There was a buxom American woman with red flowers as a crown; a man pontificating with long plaited hair; a comedian and a two pretty girls with friendly dogs; a chap from Tunbridge Wells(!) and a couple or more trying to sleep with all the lively discussion going on. I was invited to join them, but although we were there for the same reason, I didn't want to join the discussion: I disagreed with any religious connotation!
  As the time approached, the American began to bang a drum and a large man rang a bell. The Sun rose behind the clouds and no amount of drumming and ringing would make her appear from behind her grey cloak. I drank a tot of mead to Sól, packed and left, saying cheerio!
  With daylight, it was easier going, but I made a slower pace, especially after the climb to Gallows Hill. It was all downhill from there and I was sleepy. In Platt Wood, there was a Badger's set, with fresh footprints in the red earth. A pressing matter became urgent and I went off the path, dug a hole and settled the matter. I felt much better! Back at the stables, Mr Cockerel was expressing himself vigorously and I sat within earshot to have a break among the Bluebells gone to seed.
  In the parkland, the cows viewed me much less suspiciously and I said 'good morning'. Sir Herne the Heron landed over at the Bourne and the Rooks were doing brisk business in the bottom field. I was back at 9am, ready for a kip!

 
The Sun is as important to a beetle,
As it is to me.
The beetle does not keep the seasons,
But I do. 
 

Windy Saturday

15 June 2013

   The Sun was blinding after the night's rain, and the ground damp. The Westerly was strong and very cool. In the bottom field at Oxen Hoath, a parliament of Rooks were discussing the day's agenda. And up in the parkland, a pastoral scene: Holsteins amongst the trees grazing or lazily chewing the cud. A family of Jackdaws in a great Cedar arguing among themselves near the big house.
   Under a roof of polythene, flapping and clattering, Loganberries are set. In the orchards, apples are embryonic swellings. From Gover Hill, the valley looked verdant and lush; the distant hills shrouded in mist. Hurst Wood was alive with bird song, little wind there; Wrens were calling, Blackbirds fluting and Pigeons clapping away, startled.  A woodsman was splitting Chestnut poles under a tarpaulin as I went through to the Walnut and Cobnut orchard where rabbits tolerated me for a while, and squirrels didn't. The cocks were crowing as usual at the stables. Well, I was early.
  Breakfast in the wind at Doris's bench chilled me and I left with coat and gloves on. The lambs in the bottom field were well grown, especially the boys; they walked with a swagger.
  On the long climb from Basted Mill to Scathes Wood, along the verges of the lanes and rides and paths, full and overgrown were Wood Forget-me-not, Yellow Archangel, White Dead-nettle and Herb-Robert. Where exposed, Queen Anne's Lace was now threadbare; rough treatment from the violent weather.
On the hill, at Paul's bench by the Holly, I sat for another break, and looked out over the valley where Buzzards wheeled and I remembered Raggedy Robin. A Dunnock visited me long enough to sing a cheery song, then went. And so did I, to Shipbourne.
The church clock struck eleven as I went through. Then across the green of long grasses, Buttercups, Clover and Oxeyes, and then through Dean Park Wood to Clearhedges. There, Dog Roses were just emerging; white and delicate blushing pink. But beware: there is danger behind the beautiful facade!

A grey day in June

9th June 2012

This morning the cold North wind carried away the birdsong. The sky was overcast and the morning grey. Dee and I (and Maisie) drove to Kilndown for a Goudhurst, Bedgebury walk. The strong wind meant that the gloves were on again; so very cold, not expected in June.
Down the road to Pump Hill, we were under a canopy of trees and the wind was silent there. A Wren was piping loudly from the hedgerow, ridiculously loud for such a tiny bird. Along the lane at Twysden, great clumps of Scullcap bordered the path. And at the bottom of the park at Finchcocks, where the fierce cold North Easterly cut into us, a Little Owl left an old tree stump, quite silently, as we passed by.
Close by Crowbourne Farm, Maisie caught a Blackbird chick which protested loudly, until it was rescued by a very cross Dee! In the wood at Crowbourne, there was a group of six or eight Dryad's Saddle mushrooms growing from a living Ash tree; a scaly yummy looking mushroom, the size of a dinner plate which would probably make you sick if eaten. So I left them alone. The birdsong was with us in the quiet of the wood.
After the hard climb to Goudhurst church, the south side of the hill was well out of the wind. A Kestrel kept us company for a while, while Maisie chased Pheasants, and it was explicitly evident that Maisie had eaten grass, as there was a blade poking out from her bottom, much to our amusement and disgust. Dee refused to pull it out!
At Marlingate, the wind whistled down the Lime tree avenue. Lords and Ladies were grouped under a tree; their Lordships erect and displaying themselves with abandon. We had our first break on a grassy bank before Three Chimney's Farm. It was no warmer and there was a little rain in the wind.
The quiet of Bedgebury Forest, brought a welcome respite. But there were no butterflies or moths; no damsel flies, just a few hardy bees. In a large clearing under patches of brilliant yellow Broom, Bluebells still flourished, resisting the inevitable advance of Summer. May was turning dusky pink and red, Elder and Rowan were in bloom in spite of the cold. There were Oxeye daises, of which I am so fond. The multicolored Rhododendrons provided a little cheer as we entered the Pinetum and we had a second break there. On Marshall's Lake, a pair of Canada Geese escorted a clutch of eight goslings, all very well behaved. Yellow Irises decorated the banks. We returned through the forest and went by The Great Lake toward Bedgebury Cross. It was quiet at the lake with just a few Canada Geese and Great Crested Grebes, so little chance to dawdle. On the Kilndown lane, Wild Strawberries were on the banks, delicate flowers and a promise of Summer fruit.
The rain had held off at least and the Sun began to trickle through as we arrived at the car. Then home and warmth!

It will be an age before this time will come again,
The season's works lies on the earth; all beauty spent.
Best not wish time is gone,
But Autumn is longed for.

Summer beckons

2^nd June 2013

A Thrush sang a sweet reveille to wake me and I rose with the Sun. The half Moon in the blue sky was a promise of the morning to come. Dee and I drove to Ightham Mote, one of our favourite walks to Sevenoaks along the Ridge.                                                                                           The lane to Rooks Hill was thick with Vetch and Germander Speedwell. Ransoms under the trees were flat now and the flowers gone to seed, but still there was the strong garlic odour. Yellow Archangel beautified the damp banks. In the wood, a hall of trees with a leafy roof was a church with birdsong echoing through the space.

Cool, with a carpet of Bluebells now gone to seed; their once proud heads laden with pods; their leaves flat, pale and lifeless. Summer beckons: a bridge between Spring and Autumn.                                                      The climb to the ridge is hard going but the views are so green and expansive. We went into Knole for breakfast, sitting against an ancient pollarded Sweet Chestnut, on the south side, away from the wind. Around the park perimeter we heard the Parakeets but could not see them, as much as we tried, so green they are! The deer were sunning themselves or grazing lazily, unconcerned about our presence. Rhododendrons in full bloom and are great blowsy things!

In a field before Lower Bitchet there were, possibly, the breast feathers of a Cuckoo. A meal for Reynard and his cubs in any case. The green lane from Bitchet Green was bordered with Queen Anne's Lace, thick and luscious and creamy with the bitter-sweet perfume remembered so well. There was a small defiant colony of Ransoms; still in flower and fresh. I picked some young leaves for my gravy later! The break for coffee on the top of the Greensand Ridge was at the bench which looks out over the valley like a theatre. You can see the whole World from there.                                                                                                                                                                  We were greeted by a bouncing gang of Labradors of different colours which pinched Dee's biscuits! The owner apologised, but too late! They were gone.                                                                                                                                           Scullcap and Red Campion were visited by an Orange Tip butterfly to take nectar at Willmot Hill and we crossed the path to go down to Budds and through the wood. St. Giles' Church at Shipbourne nestling in the trees on the hill was picturesque in the extreme with Sky larks all about us. Horse Chestnut candles of every hue pointing skyward, like on a Christmas tree. Later, toward the Mote, a Sky lark was singing madly, gliding above a fallow field stained yellow with Buttercups, then dropped suddenly and plopped onto its nest and was silent.                         Back at the Mote, the feeling was of pleasure but sadness that the time was over.

Cake!

26th May 2013

An early start today. Mr Robin's song was piercing in the still morning air. I drove to meet my Cuz (Pauline, capital C) at Kilndown church at 6.30am. She was early which took me a little by surprise, as I was trying to enter the locked church!

It was very cool as we set off toward Goudhurst; I needed gloves, and was glad of the three layers I was wearing. We made a short detour by mistake (nattering), but were back on track in a trice through the parkland at Finchcocks. 

We turned right before reaching the old Goudhurst railway station and followed the stream toward Pattenden, over the Kilndown - Goudhurst road. We debated the breed of sheep in the field here. I believe they may be Easy Care sheep; a low maintenance breed which doesn't require shearing. The footpath through the field, on the other side, had been planted with a bean crop and wasn't defined, so we guessed the route and came out a little way down where we should, but not our fault!

The camping site at Pattenden Farm has gone. Such a shame, I was thinking of camping here with Laurie.

We followed the road to Marlingate, then turned left down the lovely avenue of Lime trees toward Three Chimneys Farm. Lots of Germander Speedwell through here. At the stream which flows from the Great Lake, a Blackcap sang a sweet melody for us. We watched and listened for a while, such a pretty tune, then sat on a felled tree, with the hot Sun on our faces, for a coffee and (for me) breakfast of olives and nuts and cheesy things, which Paul shared.

Then on into Bedgebury Forest and butterflies and moths and cyclists. At the Pinetum, we watched a Crow pulling a baby Rabbit apart and he moved on with it in his beak when we disturbed him; such a heavy load. We stopped for coffee and cake as promised! And sat in the Sun and watched Coot chicks (so ugly) and Mallard ducklings (so pretty) paddling around on the lake. A Crow was strutting brazenly amongst the ducks searching for a duckling to scoff, much to the annoyance of the parents, who were trying to snooze in the Sun.

We left the Pinetum and went back through the forest. A Spotted Wood butterfly (not a Fritillary) with a broken wing, but still flying, was feeding on the Broom. Several  Brimstones and those daytime moths (the name of which was driving Paul MAD!) were about. What are they Cuz? (Speckled Yellow, she says!) Then on to the Great Lake and we watched a Great Crested Grebe dive a couple of times. And stopped while a snake (either a female Adder, or a Smooth snake - rare. Not a Grass snake, no yellow band. That's my story!) reared up at us, then disappeared into the lake. Then a Damsel Fly settled onto my head, much to Paul's amusement.

We left Bedgebury and went on to Kilndown. On the way, the roadside flowers: Common Vetch, Germander Speedwell and at Rogers Rough, I was proud to show where some Coral Root grows (and she nicked some seeds!)

A final coffee at the Quarry. Then we went our separate ways. There seemed a lot to see this Sunday. Perhaps it was the more leisurely walk and things were more noticeable. A splendid walk in any case (and watching Paul struggling to pull her pole out of the ground was very funny!).

A Sunny Bank holiday Monday scarce,

A long Smooth snake, not often found.

Some rare Coral Root with seed to take,

And like gold dust, a walk with my Cuz,

Worth the wait

19^th May 2013

Mr Robin and Mr Blackbird woke me from an exiting dream this morning, singing a duet. Robin was melodious but Blackbird sounded depressed.

It was overcast as I stepped out into the cool Easterly wind and I walked south toward Golden Green and the River Medway. At Goldhill Mill, the Crayfish beds have been dug out and replaced with a large lake and a couple of islands. Although the water's edge and the islands were bare, there were Greylag Geese, Coots and all sorts there.

Mr Blackbird spoke at Golden Green. He said, 'good morning, how are you?' Then again, 'good morning, how are you?' I said, 'very well, thank you', and went on my way. There were two Goldfinches on the hedge. I said how pretty they were (I'm seeing a lot of Goldfinches this year).

Down at the river, Sir Herne was being mobbed by Crows as he went toward the lock. He looked most unhappy as he tried to shake them off..

The river was flowing gently and as I turned west, the clouds parted and the Sun shone on my back. The bird song was deafening along the river and a Cuckoo called. There was plenty of Scullcap on the riverbank. At Eldridge's Lock, a fat Grey Wagtail chick (bright yellow underneath) was wagging his stubby tail as mum and dad were flying aerial acrobatics, catching insects to stuff down his throat. He was very hungry!

Tonbridge Castle was again playing host to the annual 100 mile cycling event in aid of charity. Dee was at the refreshment tent and plied me with free coffee and a biscuit and then sent me on my way.

Climbing out of Tonbridge, on the path to Hilden Brook, there were fat Spanish Bluebells on a bank. Escapees from gardens I suppose. They are not as pretty as our delicate variety. I had breakfast by the Hilden Brook amongst White Dead Nettle and Jack-by-the-Hedge with my back against a Hazel.

The bridle path from Coldharbour was bordered with trees, Bluebells, Red Campion, Herb-Robert and Golden Saxifrage; the very time to take this path.

My second break was in Dean Park Wood, and properly taken in the shade, as it was getting very warm in the Sun. The woodland floor was now deep blue.

Spring may have been late, but well worth the wait.

Two dogs!

12th May 2013

Mr Robin Redbreast woke me gently this morning. The stars are strangers to me now. The Sun was very bright through the kitchen window as I prepared myself and Poppy dog for our walk, and Dee arrived at 7am with Maisie. We introduced the dogs to each other and they ran in frantic circles, uncontrollable for several minutes until they were put into the car. Then they sat very quietly and looked at each other suspiciously until we arrived at Ightham Mote and continued the madcap racing. They finally settled down after a couple of kilometres and became firm friends.

Up on the Greensand Ridge, at the place where the Ransoms grows, it was in full bloom and if you squinted, it could be snow, it was so thick with white flowers; a great expanse through the wood.
A Turtle Dove called, so rare! A few times; the low throaty warbling. And then it stopped. Just when you want to hear some more. We tasted leaves from Jack-by-the Hedge: first garlic, then mustard. A little bitter, but tasty.

The air was clear and the horizon, south, bright and sharp. At the granite bench above Underriver, we caught our breath after the climb and approved of the view.

Before we entered Knole Park, Dee went off for a pee. She was followed by Poppy and Maisie. Poppy wanted to sit on her lap! Dee had great difficulty executing her objective!

In Knole, we stopped for breakfast. Poppy didn't want the huge bony chew purchased for her, so Maisie had it. It dwarfed her somewhat! Poppy went on the lead and pulled like a train, all the way round. I was such a relief to leave the park and enter the woodland! The deer in the park were sunning themselves out of the cool wind. The Parakeets were screeching up at the north end.

Poppy was back on the lead until Bitchet Green, pulling my arms out, and then to a second break at the Ridge. Poppy wanted to sit on my lap, and Maisie wanted Poppy's chew which Dee gave her. It was all I could do to rescue my coffee!

The Buzzards were out here, a favourite spot for them to search for grub. It was all downhill now, pretty much, to Shipbourne and back to the car. On the way, we thought that Maisie could teach Poppy to jump stiles as she is the expert. She failed abysmally, fell off backwards in shame and Poppy jumped in fine style!

A final coffee at the Mote and the dogs were ready to go home.

A flawless day

5th May 2013

Yesterday eve, Mr Blackbird sang me a lullaby as I went on an adventure to my dreams.

This morning, Pisces hungered for the moon and a still cold night had laid a light frost upon the ground.
Another perfect morning. And May is is bloom.
Dee came over with Maisie and we drove to Ightham Mote for a figure of eight walk to Sevenoaks, Godden Green, Shipbourne and back to the Mote.
The Ransoms are in flower now and the scent of garlic very strong, but could not quite overpower the heady smell of the Bluebells. The monotony of blue was broken with Stitchwort, and Wood Anemone. Up on the Greensand Ridge, we looked down on Mr and Mrs Buzzard, their backs glowing in the early morning Sun. A Little Owl squawked at us and went on his way. A Cuckoo in the distance reminded us of the season.
Yellow Figwort and Speedwell were in the shade on the Ridge; cool and damp, pretty in the shade.
We found an unusually warm spot in Knole Park among the deer and Parakeets and sat in the Sun for breakfast. And then on through Godden Green into the wood toward Lower Bitchet with the voice of a Willow Warbler above us. At Bitchet Green we crossed over for Broadhoath Wood and onto the ridge again. We found a bench on an ancient path with an avenue of very old Beeches, right on the edge of the Ridge and a steep drop in front. In dappled sunlight, we drank coffee and drank the view across the Weald.
Then down to the valley at Budds and into woods again. Very cool in the shade, but warm out of it, we put on and took off layers as we went. In the Sun across the fields to St. Giles' Church at Shipbourne, It was certainly layers off!
Back at the Mote, we had a well-deserved coffee, and then home. A flawless day.

Mill pond mist

28^th April 2013

The weather forecast was for Sun, but cold; and it was. Jack-in-the-hedge and Forget-me-not are very pretty together on the roadside verge.

At Bourne Mill, there was a low mist over the mill pond; the Sun was rising in the east and the desolate translucent Moon was large and low in the west. I went on my usual route, but in reverse. At Clearhedges, with Skylarks up already (don't they tire of singing?), I started the long climb to the Greensand Ridge. And Bluebells were out, their head bowed in reverence to the New Season. Clearhedges Wood is on a south facing slope and has plenty of Sun (when it's out).
I took the longer route around the edge of Dean Park Wood to Shipbourne and as I left St Giles' churchyard, the clock struck eight.

At Ightham Mote, there was the pungent perfume of a Balsam Poplar; another harbinger of spring.

Breakfast was up in Scathes Wood, the highest point here. There were Blue Tits to entertain me with their tumbling, searching acrobatics. As it was forecast to be cold, I brought the last of my tomato soup and wedges of home made bread. It was too much! I was like Billy Bunter afterward.
Down in the valley again, there were Marsh Marigold by a stream. It's hypnotic watching a stream tumble over stones. Blossom is out everywhere; Blackthorn, plum, damson, wild cherry and pear. But not apple. Although the Bramley is just peeping through.
The River Bourne looks so beautiful now, especially at the old mill ruin. As I approached Basted Mill, I heard the cry of Buzzards. I looked up, and I counted eight Buzzards and a couple of  Rooks being bothersome. It was like Piccadilly Circus up there! If I hadn't seen it I wouldn't believe it. Was I in Wales? I sat on Doris's bench and had a cup of coffee while I watched them disperse to where ever they went. Would they be last year's chicks? But there would have to be a couple of pairs at least. Buzzardville!
There were no Bluebells out in Hurst Wood. Too shady. A Whitethroat at Oxen Hoath. At Gover Hill I pointed myself at Hadlow Tower and went downhill, home and very tired.

Bluebell and Buzzards, Blackthorn and blossom,
Beauty and cruelty, sorrow and happiness.
Longing for the past, fear of the future,
Youthful time's advantage carelessly lost.

A new day

21^st April 2013

A perfect morning, a new day.
Last night, with a crystal clear sky, the brightest stars and planets were in a great arc with the Moon cut in half nestled against Leo's front paw. This morning, the only star was the Sun in a clear sky and it was rising as I left the front door.
There was a frost and the ground had dried somewhat, so progress was easier.
Sir Herne the Heron flew over from the lake with head tucked in, flying zig-zag until a Crow mobbed him and then he turned rapidly; so impressive for a big bird.
On the hill, the Sun shone through a soft mist. It was cold in spite of the Sun, and the frost stayed in sheltered places.
Mister Reynard was ambling home through the park after a night out, his splendid bushy brush following him. Buzzard cried out over the woods, but I couldn't see him.
At breakfast time, a solitary House Martin swooped among the sheep and lambs. There were no Fieldfare about; they are off home at last. A grating cry above me was a Cuckoo flying east. I hadn't heard the classic cry. This was a strange noise. There are so many Green Woodpeckers: what's so funny?
Raggedy Robin is still missing. I suppose it is the end for him; such a shame after surviving the winter. Poor Raggedy!
Blushing Milkmaids stand with their feet in muddy ditches and there are banks of Primroses everywhere. The sound of bees gladdens me!

Oh, cruel Fate! That Sól should desert you

When your need was greatest, and

With the everlasting winter, so cold,

Would conspire to bring your death.

Auto-pilot

14th April 2013

There were a few breaks in the cloud as I stepped out this morning. It was quite mild with a gentle South Westerly at my back. I was in auto-pilot after the drive back from Robin Hood's Bay yesterday, so my legs took me on my regular route. The Sun peeped out a couple of times, but there were light showers from time to time. The recent downpours meant that it was back to sodden ground and strength sapping slimy mud.

The view over the valley was clear as far as the horizon, the South Downs and beyond.

At Doris's bench, as soon as the sheep heard me open my pack of Hickory Smoked Nuts and Seeds, there were at my feet, lambs too, begging. They wouldn't go away! In the bottom field, the boys were have a proper scrap. All those hormones.

The river and streams and ditches were swollen and murky again.

Spring is definitely here: Wood Anemones, Celandine, Dogs Mercury with teeny tiny yellow flowers, Great carpets of Ransoms (some of which I picked for dinner), and Golden Saxifrage by the streams. But the main sign is the Chiff Chaff, chiff bloody chaffing (hand me a gun).

A few Peacock butterflies and a Comma. Did they come in on the wind?

There was no sign of Raggedy Robin. Oh dear. Maybe he was busy.

The leaves are bursting to be out. Pussy Willow all fluffy. I took off a layer at Shipbourne.

Then out of Clearhedges, there were several pairs of Skylarks singing. I took off another layer (Dee would be surprised!) - the Sun was shining!

Pumping heart, surging blood,

Faster breath, feel intense;

Rejection, frustration,

Rabid conscience and guilt.

Cuppa at Falling Foss

11th April 2013

Lovely walk (or amble) with Kay yesterday the length of Sneaton Forest in North Yorkshire and back. On the way back we stopped at the Falling Foss tea garden in the forest for a cuppa and sandwich. Kay took some photo's of me standing beside some memorable Coast to Coast signs. Very pleasant. No rain this week but bloody freezing up here!

Shingles

7th April 2013

I left at 6.15am under a blue sky and a magenta glow in the East. It was very cold at around minus 6C. The garden birds were singing songs of promise. And as I went into the parkland the Sun rose through the trees. What a glorious and welcome sight!

The ground underfoot was hard and the grass fringed with frost. The going was much easier without so much mud. At the big house there was a great cacophony at the Rookery: squawking and croaking and what a carry-on! Above Oxen Hoath, the Mistletoe is still prominent on the Lime trees. I took a quick look back across the valley and went into the woods. It was so peaceful! I am happiest amongst the trees. I wonder why, is it because I spent my childhood in the woods at Kilndown; is it some ancestral thing, or is it something psychological: as if I need to hide away?

I stopped for a snack at Doris's bench and ate Moroccan olives with coffee to drink and lambs with black faces for company. Down in the bottom field, there were eight Suffolk rams. The daddies of the lambs in the top field no doubt. Big fellows, in every way!

There are still plenty of Fieldfare about, they don't seem to be in any hurry to go back home.

I picked some Ransoms by the River Bourne. It was still chilly, but the long climb up to Scathes Wood warmed me. Woodpeckers drummed all about. I sat at Paul's bench and Raggedy Robin visited and warned me off. So I gave him some bread, he said 'thank you' and he grasped a twig above me and sang a very pretty song as I ate my soup. Raggedy Robin lives in the Holly bush nearby. He has white feathers about his head from some mishap or other. He has survived the winter well enough though. Will he get a wife? He is very ugly. I thanked him for the song, and left for Ightham Mote.

Beyond Shipbourne beside a road on a wide verge, is a new bench. It's not facing the road, it faces the hedgerow and Dean Park Woods. A very odd place to put a bench. It is dedicated to Joan and Frank Chapman. They must have been well loved. A pair of Buzzards circled overhead as I sat and wondered.

In the wood, I went across the public footpath, along a track that wends its way South. And then into Clearhedges. In the field below, two Skylarks sang frantically. 30 minutes later and I was home.

I felt very good, not at all tired. Was this the weather, or because I'm over an attack of Shingles?

Bough Beech

29th March 2013

Dee came over again at 7am. This time I had packed the map. For our Good Friday Walk we parked at Bough Beech reservoir (although not in the car park, it doesn't open until 10am). We walked down the western shore toward Bough Beech village. The ground was much firmer now without rain or snow for a week. It was decidedly warmer and the sun came out!

There was a bit of road work until we reached the River Eden and then across fields to the Penshurst Place Estate. We stopped for breakfast in the woods at Moorden, out of the wind (which was still cold). And the last of my pea and ham soup!

On the Penshurst Place Estate, we walked along a wide avenue of London Planes. The bark is so strange - rather like a jigsaw puzzle. It must be beautiful through there in summertime. There was also the biggest, twisted, strangest Oak tree I have ever seen!

From here we went on into Leigh. Past the Fluer-de-lis (lunchtime cooking - yum) and the lovely church, into the parkland. There was a very old kissing gate which we had to climb over, it was so small our bags wouldn't fit! There were a pair of Fallow deer, one white, so easy to spot.

Up at Leigh Park Farm, there was something for every sense: the cool wind on the skin, Daffodils for the eye and cow shit for the nose! We were glad to be away from there!

Celandine and Speedwell were in flower along the lanes, with Primroses here and there and Dogs Mercury coming up. So much more promising than of late.

Back at the reservoir, we popped into the Kent Wildlife Centre for a coffee and cake and a look around. They have a nice little exhibition of hop growing there (wonderful memories for both Dee and I), and a lot of educational stuff of wildlife etc. for kids, very well done.

A 17, maybe 18k walk – grand!
               

What has it lived through, that old gnarled thing?

There are bunions and blisters and ugly swellings.

But still it lives, rooted in the terrible world.

With a strange beauty and defiance.

                                                                                                            

No map!

24^th March 2013

It's been two weeks, as I was too busy for a walk after Kay's birthday bash last Sunday.

Mr Blackbird was already singing at 5.30am; the day had already started. And I left at 7am with Dee, to start our walk at Leigh for a change. There had been another sprinkling of snow and it was very cold. We parked on the Green and got ready, only to realize that I had left the map at home!

We decided to drive to Ightham Mote and do a circular walk from there, where we know our way about. We squelched our way up onto the Greensand Ridge, picked some Ransoms on the way, and went into Knole Park. I reminded Dee of the time she went for a pee in the woods, only to realize her bare bum was facing the road when a group of cyclists got an eyeful! Very funny. The snow was a little thicker up there and there was an icy blast across the park. It is always cold up there! The Parakeets were very vocal!

It was lovely to see the Fallow Deer in the snow with their thick coats and fat bellies. The fawns are due around June, I think.

This time I didn't get us lost, and we found a spot against an Oak tree under some Rhododendron for shelter away from the wind and snow and had breakfast of pea and ham soup (!) and fresh bread.

From here we made our way through Godden Green, through the fields which were orchards, but have now been ploughed for arable crops. There has been an avenue of old varieties of apple planted here, each side of the bridlepath which is lovely to see. All sorts of apple, most of which I had never heard of. In a few years, they will be ready for scrumping!

Then back to the car. Although only a 4 hour walk, the cold and mud was knackering! It must warm up soon, surely!

The Sun and Moon are on each hand
And envelope me in a warm embrace.
The celestial caress pleases me
And leaves me smiling, remembering.

Stodge, stodge

10th March 2013

At dawn, Mr blackbird was atop the Walnut tree again, singing for a wife, And very prettily too. No one could resist him, surely.

The sky was overcast and with a sharp North Easterly, Spring was being held at bay. With the recent heavy rain, it was again: stodge, stodge, stodge through the mud. As the fields were freshly ploughed, I avoided struggling across them. Going uphill through Clearhedges, it was two steps forward, one step back.

The clock at St Giles' Church struck eight when I arrived and it was open for business. A sheep was standing on the step of a style nattering to her neighbours in the field next door; a very comical sight! She skedaddled when I approached. I mean, I wanted to use the stile, I told her!

I by-passed Ightham Mote and started the long muddy climb up to One Tree Hill near Knole. I picked some wild Garlic leaves (first forage of the year!) on the way, and there were some Primroses in flower on the south facing bank. Also a group of Lungwort; very pretty with their red and blue flowers and leaves with white spots. I said 'hello' to the Thelwell ponies.

I stopped for breakfast at the granite bench. The High Weald faded into the mist on the horizon. There were snow flurries by now while I ate my (now World famous) pea and ham soup and fresh bread. An angry Robin chuck-chucked at me to keep away while I slowly froze. The thermometer hovered around one degree. I was glad to get going again. This time all down hill (and it took half an hour to warm up), through Underriver and across to Coldharbour. The neatly trimmed hedgerow along this track is around one and a half kilometers long and here and there, Blackthorn was in flower, in spite of the weather!

I skirted Carroty Wood (PRIVATE - KEEP OUT! CCTV!) and went through Poult Wood golf course - not a golfer in sight!

Then bypassing Hadlow College and home at 1pm. I think the cold causes my back to ache. Or maybe that is a coincidence. Or maybe it's because I walked twenty-one kilometers today. Hard work in all that mud. Still, it's painful!

Sticky stodge and mucky slime,
Drag the legs and mark the time.
The heart beats fast; increase the pace,
Deny the pain upon my face.

Pea and ham soup

3rd March 2013

The sky was a little dull at 7am when Dee arrived, but blue patches gradually appeared as we were walking up through Oxen Hoath, accompanied by Sir Herne the Heron. Fieldfare were again in the parkland and swirling about like a murmuring of Starlings!

The temperature was around 2 degrees and the ground had dried out some more; there were fewer boggy bits. We stopped at the top at Gover Hill to look down on Hadlow and with just a slight mist in the valley, the Tower was looking very grand.

There are great areas of Chestnut cleared through Hurst Wood. There must be an increased market for the timber. The Army were banging and rat-tat-tatting as we walked through to Crouch.

Breakfast of pea and ham soup with fresh bread on Doris's bench and the Sun shone on our backs! Looking across the valley, the woods did appear perhaps a little greener on the other side, or was it wishful thinking and the sunshine? A Skylark was singing a jolly song as we ate. Stopping at Basted Mill, on the way to Yopps Green, we looked down into the Bourne at the bridge. There were Trout, and big ones, amongst the Chubb where a stream runs in. A good place to feed.

The fields have been ploughed, now the ground is a little dryer. People were out working this morning, taking advantage of the weather.

Up on the hill near Scathes Wood there were fine views to Hadlow and it was somewhat warmer. Another break on Paul's bench in Scathes Wood where we fed a raggedy Robin with bread (Maisie wanted it!). Robin must have had a very hard winter; he did look rough, but he was polite, just the same. Then through Ightham Mote (open now), and on to Shipbourne and home.

Pooped!

24th February 2013

I'm pooped!

Today, Dee wanted to do a longer walk as it is her birthday. So we chose Horsmonden, Goudhurst, Bedgebury Forest, Kilndown, then back to Goudhurst and Horsmonden.

As I drove along Mascalls Court Road, a Barn Owl joined me for a while. I picked up Dee and Maisie at 7am and parked at Sprivers, Horsmonden.

It was extremely cold, especially in the northern wind. The sky was dull and overcast and there were light flurries of snow. There was still some snow from the recent fall and the ground was solid. There were many Crocuses in flower through the woods; Daffodils are almost ready.

Leaving Sprivers (a National Trust property), we entered the hop fields opposite and fought our way through the wind to Horsmonden Church, then up the hill to Goudhurst Church. This warmed us up! The Camellia were in flower at the west door.

Along Maypole Lane Dee slipped on the ice and landed on her arse! Her bag took most of the force, so she was OK. Funny, just the same, once she was over the shock! It certainly didn't slow her down!

We sat in the snow (like VIKINGS!) and both had soup for breakfast; pea and ham for me (made yesterday) and tomato soup for Dee (from the freezer), with home-made bread. We put our hoods up to keep the wind out and were reasonably warm when we carried on (except our hands!). Then it was through the forest to the Pinetum Centre, for coffee and cakes in the cafe. Happy Birthday, I said!

We left Bedgbury along the road toward Kilndown, passing a sign on Summerhill: Free range sausages, £2.50 a pound, and any cut of meat. The pigs were in the field; wooly ones! I think I shall get some next time I go through.

At the bottom of Pump Hill, the Buzzards flew over low and calling. Dee got very excited. 'Get my bino's' she said. I pulled them from her bag and gave them to her. She took so long focusing, they had long gone! I laughed, sorry. Walking down through Finchcocks, the wind was so strong and Arctic-like, so the hoods went up!

A copse had been cut down near the old railway station, I think they were Ash trees. Not any more.

At the green Cross Inn, an American stopped and asked directions to Scotney Castle. The sat-nav had directed him to the private road. I sent him on his way and we went on ours' back to Horsmonden, past the church, the way we came. We bumped into a very tall blonde woman dressed in a black Nike cap, a short black quilted Rab jacket, very tight black Lycra leggings and black Hunter boots. She was telling us about her little puppy (matching black with long legs!) which was from a rescue home as I tried desperately to keep eye contact!

Some chocolate for energy and then back to the car. The temperature hadn't risen above zero all day and I was knackered after around 22, maybe 23 kilometres!

We have walked the soft green corridors
And the purple plains.
Stood on ancient hills looking down on
Pastels of the journeys we shared.

 

Pegasus

10th February 2013

I was hoping to see Pegasus leap over the Sun this morning - no chance! It was raining when I left to pick up Diana at 6.30am and it continued to rain.

We drove to Bedgebury. On the way, a Fallow stag ran across the road as we approached Horsmonden. He had very large antlers! We parked at Bedgebury Cross. From there we walked to the Great Lake. There was a large flock of Barnacle Geese on the lake.

From the lake, we went up the hill, through sheep with new born lambs into Bedgebury Forest. Di's dog Maisie disappeared when let of the lead. This annoyed Dee a little! It took an age to call her back. Oh dear. Maisie went back on the lead for a while, as punishment!

The ground was back to extreme mud. It was quite cold too - but as the going was heavy, we warmed up pretty quick. On the way to Louisa Lake, Maisie caught and killed a rabbit! Di was really cross now and the little dog was in terrible trouble! Her nose was pointed at and she was called 'very bad'. Maisie looked pleased with herself! Di asked if I wanted the rabbit but it would mean that I would have to carry it in my bag. I had nothing to put it in, so we left it there for scavengers.

We passed Louisa Lake (they've done some work here - cut down trees and widened the path. It's not so dodgy by the water's edge), and tried to find somewhere out of the weather for breakfast. We found a Holly tree which was relatively dry under the spiky leaves, by the cycle track. I had my chicken soup & bread and Dee had her banana and nuts! As we enjoyed our break, a couple of chaps on cycles shouted 'that's a good idea'!

After breakfast and coffee, we carried on up the hill for an hour or so to the Pinetum Centre for another quick coffee in the building where we warmed up. In walked the same chaps who greeted us in the forest. They were mates of Dee; she went to school with them. Big chin-wag!

Refreshed, we went on into the forest, back to the Great Lake where we saw a pair of Buzzards on the ground feeding. They were chased off by a Crow. I think that they may be the same pair which I see over at Hurst Wood. I hope so, as I thought that they had been killed by gamekeepers. Dee said that there was a spare rabbit over in the forest if they wanted it! There were also Crested Grebes on the lake, diving and popping up in unexpected places.

Back to the car, we got changed and I dropped Dee and Maisie back at Pixot Hill, Brenchley. It was a very hard walk in the mud, but I felt all aglow afterward.

I perceive a loss of the connection
Between me and the ages past.
Comfort and expediency is surreptitiously
Displacing my congenital being.

A Tawny Owl hooting

3rd February 2013

The stars were out when I went to bed last night but were nowhere to be seen this morning. It was cold too: minus one and a chilly breeze.

There was a Tawny Owl hooting over at Dean Park as I left Hadlow. I thought that I would do last week's walk in reverse, so I headed for Clearhedges Wood.

There was a large Silver Birch down across the path. It was half-dead and the wind finished it off, I suppose. It was a struggle getting through the branches! The mornings are getting lighter; I turned off my lamp in the wood. It was easier walking: the frost had firmed up the mud and put a frozen crust on top. The water level had dropped too.

There was no-one at St Giles' church in Shipbourne except a Green Woodpecker laughing at me as I went through the churchyard. A cock was crowing at the farmyard at Ightham Mote and I went through and up to Scathes Wood for my first break. Bluebells and Lords and Ladies are just emerging.

I had breakfast on the bench overlooking the valley. I knocked my flask of soup over and lost half of it! I was glad of my hot chicken soup, as there was a cold wind blowing up there on the hill. My crusty bread made up for it. There is a lovely old twisted Chestnut tree here.

I went on to Yopps Green and Plaxtol, then down to the river. The orchards were quiet. The long climb to Gover Hill is a killer! I stopped here for my second break. I didn't sit at the viewpoint, as it was exposed and a strong wind was blowing, so I moved back into the wood and found a sheltered spot for coffee.

I went on down to Oxen Hoath. There were hundreds of Fieldfare on the ground and in the trees in the parkland. No wonder the orchards were quiet. There must be some sort of food there. I said 'hello' to a pair of Greylag Geese and went home.

Plenty of rain

27 January 2013

It's great weather for ducks! It rained all night and was still raining as I left at 6.30am. I could hear the ducks over at the river. The ground is completely sodden; if the water can't run off, it lays in great lakes. There were some fresh mole hills at the top of Oxen Hoath. It must be pretty damp down there!

As I entered Hurst Wood, the rain stopped but there was still a strong wind - that was OK, I needed to dry the backs of my legs. The cloud was quite low as there was an orange glow on them from the road lamps at Tonbridge.

There were still small clumps of snow in sheltered spots on Greensand Ridge and water was laying over ice on the Wealdway track. That was a surprise!

In the wood, I turned left down an ancient track and past Old Soar Manor. Then over the Bourne (full to overflowing) and up the hill to Plaxtol and Yopps Green. At Yopps Green, I went west into Scathes Wood up on the Ridge. I found a bench cut out of a tree and facing south across the valley and Ightham Mote. Leek and potato soup, coffee and home-made bread for breakfast. Bliss!

I went from here, past the Mote, through Shipbourne and Dene Park Woods. There were gun shots over at Budds - a big shoot on from Fairlawne I suppose.

I had another break in Dene Park. I sat against a young oak with the Sun on my good looks. Someone let off both barrels in the field in front of me and I nearly dropped my coffee! The leaves are budding and the catkins are out. There was a Sky Lark singing in the field out of Clearhedges! Very mild this morning - I got quite warm!

The purgatory has ended.                                                                                                                            I stand in my boots and weep                                                                                                                With relief and gratitude,                                                                                                                           To see the hue of the future.

Viking!

20th January 2013

This morning, I left sharp on 6.15am wearing my Yeti gaiters and many layers. The sky was very dark and laden with cloud. Even the garden birds were quiet; no noisy Rooks this morning. Where there was mud, there was now frozen ground under snow. I'm not sure which is more difficult to walk on. The roads were traitorous, and I tried to walk in the centre where there was soft snow.

The cockerel was giving it all at Crouch. Noisy bugger! Then it started to snow again at around 8am.

I walked by Doris's bench as it is rather exposed, to find some shelter for breakfast which I found: a large ivy-covered oak on a bank in the wood at Basted Mill and I hunkered down there. It was quite dry, though by this time the snow was getting blizzard-like. Had to undress for a pee - very difficult to find my willy and hands so cold!

I had the last of the chestnut soup with homemade bread. I was joined by a couple of Robins (which squabbled) and two Woodpeckers drumming above me in the oak.

I scared the bejesus out of a woman walking her dogs (they wanted food). I apologized, as I was a little hidden.

I had a second break of Christmas cake and coffee in Yopps Green and more birds joined me there. I fed them bread and cake which they were very grateful for.

The weather worsened further when I reached Dunks Green; I was walking south, so I was facing away from the worst of it. As I neared the river, Jenny Wren asked for food, but I had none. Oh dear, the look in her eye! There was some gorse in flower here, in the snow!

A very hard and adventurous walk - I'm a VIKING!

No snow yet

13 January 2013

I expected snow this morning, or at least a frost. It was positively Mediterranean! I didn't think it would be any muddier. I was wrong! It was very dark, especially in Clearhedges Wood, I disturbed a gang of Rooks and they set up a right cacophony as I went through. The Sun rose behind a grey shroud as I walked into Shipbourne. St. Giles' Church was busy for the 8am Communion. The clock struck eight as I walked through and the clock at Ightham Mote struck a couples of minutes later.

A quick coffee here at Ightham, I was desperate for the loo which was locked. So I found a private spot in the woods above the Mote and dug a hole. I walked on with a new spring in my step afterwards! The sun began to break through now.

Chestnut soup and Christmas cake for breakfast at Yopps Green. As the Sun had swung around to the south, I followed it home through Dunks Green.

The wind was from the north but didn't drop below freezing all morning. There were lots of walkers about later in spite of the mud.

Maisie likes puddles!

6th January 2013.

I stepped out at 7am with the Cranbrook mud still on my boots, into fog. The crescent Moon shone hazily for a moment, then was gone. Dee led the way (to clear a way through the cobwebs!) and we journeyed into the thick mist. The birds were lively in Hadlow, but as we walked out into the country, they became muted, except for Geese at Oxen Hoath. As the night faded, the fog lifted a little, but no sign of the Sun. All very peaceful.

The ground was still very wet and heavy going. On a grassy bank in Crouch, a primrose was in flower! The mild weather, I suppose. The first break of coffee, pumpkin soup and Christmas cake was at Basted Mill. And still misty.

The path along by the Bourne was very wet and muddy and Dee made some comical slips! The orchard at Yopps Green was devoid of apples, so no crumble today, though the Fieldfare were in good voice there.

Maisie the dog was in high spirits and got very muddy; washing in the river didn't last long. The second break was in Yopps Green and we snacked on chocolate and cake!

Maisie disappeared into a deep puddle on the way back to Hadlow and came up with a muddy face! Very funny, but Maisie didn't think so.

The birds became lively again as we approached the village. Very odd.

 

Yet more mud

30th December 2012.

This morning I pointed the car at Venus and the orange glow below it and drove to Pixot Hill to pick up Dee and her little dog; and from there to Cranbrook.

We left the car at around 7:15am and walked through the churchyard; it was a perfect morning for a walk - cool and dry.

The Sun rose behind us as we walked north-west toward Hazelden Farm then down-hill to Friezley and followed the lane to Hocker Edge and the old Mill Stream which was running full and rapidly (the mill was here for over 500 years and only stopped working in the 20th century).

As we entered a small field between Hazelden Farm and Friezley, there were a group of perhaps twenty two-day old lambs frolicking without a care! They may have even been born on Christmas Day.

There is a lot of water in the valley here but the houses seemed dry. In the field leaving the lane, the mud was so deep, we had to divert to higher ground and then into Pond Wood, Brewers Wood (where I left my stick behind - and had to go back!), then into Home Wood where we had a break in a clearing bathed in sunlight. I ate Chestnut and bacon soup and homemade bread for breakfast. Very good! Maisie the dog liked the soup - I gave her my spoon to lick. I forgot that I would need it again later. Di said that it was OK, she only licked her bum just then!

We carried on through Digdog Lane (where dogs would dig up corpses at the time of the plague), then around to Sissinghurst Castle for another break (and used the dog-licked spoon!).

Later as we went through an orchard, approaching Sissinghurst village, there were Braeburn apples (still crisp) hanging from the trees like red-green droplets on a necklace. So irresistible! 

Dee had trouble with a gate again. 

From there, we walked back to Cranbrook past the Union Windmill. A lovely view from here.

Absolutely knackered today. The normally 5 hour walk took almost 6 hours, what with all the mud, and I was smothered in it!

Winter Solstice!

21st December 2012

My destination this morning was Coldrum Longbarrow, to see the Sun rise on this special day of the Winter Solstice. Sun-rise would be at 8am.

An early start: 3:45am. The stars were out, with only light cloud. The Moon had gone to bed early, so it was very dark. Orion stood in the south west with Betelgeuse on his right shoulder, and his belt pulled tight. A sentinel to stop the weather ruining my walk, I hoped.

It was pitch black going into the wood at Gover Hill, and slightly misty, the light reflecting back at me. The lichen on the tree boles was sparkling brightest silver in my lamp light. The ground even wetter than last week, if that is possible, and hard going.

I thought that the cock at the stables near Crouch would be silent at this time - but no! He was calling just as loudly. When does he rest, I wondered?

From Crouch, I checked the map regularly, so as not to get lost. All was quiet, except the gradually increasing traffic noise of the motorways 6km ahead. Through Platt Wood, then the wood at Gallows Hill (pleasant name!). Over the A20 at Wrotham Heath, past Addington Longbarrow, then under the M20 motorway, which was very busy this morning. The difficult bit here, was the large field before Ryarsh Wood. The footpath goes through the middle; the field had been ploughed and harrowed and it was pitch black!

I set my compass for NNE and hoped for the best. It was with great relief that I came to the kissing gate on the far side of the field! I paddled through Ryarsh Wood, and arrived at Coldrum at 7am. I was the first one there. I made a cup of coffee, and ate my pumpkin soup(!) in the half light. It had clouded over a little by this time.

A man arrived at around 7:30 and we had a little chat. Very soon after him, three girls arrived with drums which they started to tap gently and with increasing intensity as the Sun rose. The cloud parted above the horizon and glowed red until just after eight, as Sól appeared. Then one girl walked around the stones banging her drum - I believe it was to scare away bad spirits. They were quite serious going about their business!

I toasted Sól with a tot of brandy, then began my return. The journey back always seems quicker - it is a well known fact that time runs slower in the dark! The cock was still crowing as I passed through! I found a sunny spot for my second break in Hurst Wood and ate some Polish Christmas Poppy seed cake, made by one of the Polish girls from work. Very tasty! I got back home at around 11:45am. A very satisfying and spiritual walk.