9th March 2014
The morning was peaceful and blue. Mr Robin continued to serenade from atop the Willow behind the house and the frost was light.
A message was on my mobile when I turned it on: are you going my way? Dee asked. I drove to Brenchley to pick her and Maisie up, and on we went to Scotney Castle. A Dunnock sang in a tree above us at the car park; a very springlike, perky tune. He wore drab clothes, but had a fine voice. The walk, to begin, was as last week: to Kilndown and Bedgebury. But this time we walked to Three Chimneys by the Great Lake. There were just two Great Crested Grebes, it seemed, on the whole lake, diving now and then. There was a slight mist rising and the water was calm. Then a few ducks flew over to settle near the south shore and voiced their arrival. On the hill to Three Chimneys, where lambs gambolled, we looked back, and the valley was pastoral perfection. Into the forest, a Roe deer, with its white arse bouncing across our path, surprised us as we walked south to the Pinetum and we breakfasted on a bench there, with the Sun bright and warm on our faces. Dozens of Brimstone butterflies, wings, bright and gaudy yellow, floated in the air, and one settled on Primroses by the bench, to taste the nectar. To leave the Pinetum and forest for Bewl Bridge Reservoir, we took the footpath via the radio and television mast and crossed the busy A21 with great care! The footpath down through a field of Rape, took us to the infant River Bewl. And the woodland there was filled with birdsong, butterflies and sunlight. The reservoir was calm and Peacock butterflies flitted along the path and alighted on the damp clay in the sunlight, with white-faced Coots calling from the water, and rowers pulling oars to commands from a motorboat alongside. Dingies floated gently with full sails and a peaceful air in the distance. And walkers, wearing unsuitable shoes, complained of the mud along the path. For the shortest way back to Scotney from the water, We took the decision to cross Chingley Wood. This would mean trespass, but there was a path on the map, although not a right of way, going north. I turned on the GPS to help find the path and we found the way out of the wood (sometimes following deer prints) to the gamekeeper's cottage on the A21, without trouble or hindrance! It gave the way through a frisson, and the relief felt was palpable when we entered Kilndown Wood on the other side of the road! Back at Scotney, the long hot walk deserved a cup of coffee and a large slice of cake from the restaurant there. We sat in the Sun, the half Moon was high, and the crowded space of the coach house forecourt was filled with laughter and joy as people relaxed, embracing the warm early spring day.
When home, I realised that my walking pole was not in the car. Where was it? Who knows?
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