The Sun was rising through a heavy veil of mist; the light was soft, Elysian. Rain was expected, but there was not a cloud to be seen. And it was very cool, as we left the village. I had put on several layers in anticipation (they could always be taken off). Poppy and I left for Crouch through Oxen Hoath and the orchards. We stood aside while a convoy of tractors towing their small square trailers came along the track followed by a mini-bus packed with fruit-pickers. The apples were just ready and the packing-boxes were stacked at every corner. Up on the hill, looking down, the valley was completely submerged in the mist. The castellated tower of Shipbourne Church across the valley, was distinctive above the surrounding trees. There was, perhaps, the faintest hint of autumnal colour emerging.
In the wood, Poppy ran like a greyhound, fast and furious. Splashing through mud and puddles, with head down, to and fro', to and fro'. At the stables (cock still crowing), we turned left, off the main path, into a field of plough where Poppy ran in small circles with mud flying, ears flapping, tongue lolling and a manic look in her eye. Once this mania had passed, she calmed down a little and we went through some sheep, by-passing Doris's bench, for a break in the wood; tea for me and a chew for Poppy (which was devoured in a trice). Away again, as Poppy whimpered until we did, there were woodland mushrooms, Shaggy Parasols, the size of dinner plates, under a group of Alders. I chose a fine specimen and popped it into my rucksack. This would be a fine accompaniment with sausages for dinner!
Then down to the river, to the little Bourne. Just a bit swollen with rain, but fun for Poppy to splash and frolic. The pink Indian Balsam flowers thrive well into the Autumn. We followed the river as best we could. I was dragged off a lane by Poppy through Stinging Nettles into more plough. She was keen to follow something. What it was, we shall never know. Then we had a second break on a bench on the Green in Plaxtol Spout in the Sun. We said 'hello' to a young lady (with an antipodean accent) and a friendly Beagle and went on to Dunks Green through grassy fields, perfect for galloping about. I followed on. Near Puttenden Manor Farm, there were Greengages for the taking! I took some.
We followed the river still, until Bourne Mill. Here, I ate a few Blackberries, then we made our way home, before the rain came, where Poppy collapsed with exhaustion, and so did I!
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