13th April 2014
The morning to begin was grey and chill but soon pocket handkerchiefs of pale blue appeared. Up at Oxen Hoath Mr Hare ran from me, and, all of a sudden, Reynard darted from the undergrowth and chased Hare into the Loganberry canes. I would say that Hare escaped; he was fast! Neither could be seen as I looked through the canes and orchard beyond. Opposite, a new orchard has been planted with a variety of apple called Scrumptious. I look forward to a September tasting. The woodland floor was everywhere thickly blue and the Sun shone through. Out of Hurst Wood, into the Walnut orchard and the catkins were sprouting. Jack-by-the-hedge were flowering on the banks (leaves tasting of mustard and garlic) and joining the White Dead Nettle was a another Mint called Yellow Archangel. Along the canopied twitten to Crouch, Herb Robert was beginning to show its pink visage. And after breakfast, below Doris's bench, in Long Bottom Wood, Spotted Orchids stood under the greening Hazel's shade.
I took a detour from the tinkling Bourne uphill along a path by Crowhurst Farm, and at Bewley Farm, a young woman was giving her horse a lesson in standing still and giving encouraging pats when he was good. From there I rambled through pink Bramley apple blossom to Ivy Hatch and through Bluebells to Ightham Mote and sat in the hot Sun for tea as visitors came in happy droves to see the house and gardens.
In Dean Park Wood, I sought out an old stump and sat among Bluebells for a final cuppa under the tree-filtered sunlight with insects buzzing about me, and watched as a Kestrel glided silently above the azure ground through the arboreal Eden. At High House Lane, I didn't walk the foot path off through the wheat fields as the crops were being sprayed, so took the green lane to Hadlow College instead and back across the rushing Bourne at the old Mill House for home.
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