Just a couple of weeks.

8th December 2013

    A Song Thrush sang in the night from high on a Poplar behind the house, and Jupiter was glowing through the thin cloud.
     I drove to Kilndown in the emerging light, parked by the church and at 7am left the village for Lamberhurst through the wood. All the trees were naked, twisted skeletons, and I walked through discarded brown leaf-litter to the little Bewl. The river banks' vegetation had died back and the river ran fast and clear. Over the hill to the Tiese valley, a frost had crisped the ground as the morning light increased. I followed the serpentine River Tiese, then across a field of winter wheat to a gap in the hedge, and waited while three fellows teed off, then crossed the golf course. They were early! Lamberhurst village was very quiet and no one was abroad as I joined the river again. The grass no longer grows and the hedge rows are dull, but for Holly and Rose Hips and Haws which redden the way with a Yuletide flavour. Along the Tiese, the Sun rose over the hill and sent gentle light through the trees to warm me a little.
    I sat against an Oak in Hook Green, on the green, with the Sun on my face, sipping hot tea and then, feeling invigorated, left with an extra spring in my step. I went through fields of plough and harrow and winter wheat where markers were left for the guns. Shot gun cartridges were left here and there, bearing witness to the Autumnal slaughter. At Bluecaps, looking east, Goudhurst was drenched in sunlight, and St. Mary's Church was a beacon on the hill. Breakfast of pea and bacon soup, was at Bewl water, with wind surfers, taking advantage of the strong wind on the choppy water, entertaining me. Away from there, Chingley Wood was peaceful, with just the voices of the birds. Into Cats Wood, over the A21 (easy today), and over to Combwell Priory and through the free-range chicken farm, some birds were raking and searching through the grass in the trees; others were discussing the day. The marks of deer were all along the path and into Shearnfold Wood, but not to be seen. A couple of Chestnuts were picked up and peeled for a snack. Back at Kilndown, I had a natter with an old childhood friend, before sitting by the old quarry for a final cuppa to listen to a Goldfinch whistling prettily from the oak on the other side of the pond. Then was the journey back to Hadlow.