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.