Yesterday afternoon, later in the afternoon, I decided to test the knee and go for a walk down the lane and across the fields. It was a perfect summer day – azure blue skies domed the entirety of the Marsh, the distant hills were far off across the great expanse of pasture and corn crops and the castle on the hill stood majestic in the sunshine. I was entirely alone as I strolled past the sheep field with the robust lambs and their rotund woolly mothers casually grazing – the only sound an occasional bleat between mouthfuls. The pond has nearly died up now and sits damp with pond weed. The scent of the Elder flower drifted on the gentle breeze and it seemed for at least a short while as if all was well with the world. Past the wheat field sea green and swaying in unison with the bearded ears standing sentinel in a tightly ranked army of ramrod straight stems. I wandered into the field and carefully made my way out into the midst of the crop – all around this blue green alive with insect life.
I had only intended to go to the end of the lane but the sight of the fields beyond lured me onwards. The tree that stands beside the road has leaves that are grey on their underside and in the wind they rustle loudly like the never ending sound of the waves breaking on the shore. Beyond, as I start my along the field path the reeds whisper almost imperceptibly as they gently sway to and fro. High above a bird trills out his endless song, a Rook caws his way across to the Vicarage trees while a couple of Magpies launch themselves from the tall hedgerow to alight in amongst the sheep. There they strut and stride, occasionally pecking, like debating clerics discussing the finer points of theological theory. There is no sound of human save the constant tap of my walking pole. Then as I cross the field along the dry cracked tractor track the distant hoot of the tiny steam train that makes its way across the Marsh carrying tourists on a holiday treat, a plane, high in the sky, leaves a snow white trail while a much more humble light aircraft with black and white stripped wings drones away into the distance and the land is silent again save for the sounds of the birds. Time to turn back and head home – I haven’t been far in the great scheme of things and certainly not as far as I used to go but I am pleased that my knee has stood the test – tomorrow I shall ago on a different route.
We have a footpath at the back of our garden, just outside the fence, and it is many months, maybe years, since I have taken that route across the fields and out to the lane beyond That shall be my route today. Again it takes me through a wheat field, and then back through the village this time. The garden is too hard and dry to do much work – a few weeds removed perhaps but not much else I fear.
In other news we had a meeting about the Village Hall yesterday and we are moving onwards. We are planning another Cake and Book Sale in very early October and then, fingers crossed, a Christmas type Fair/Sale in December. Ideas are buzzing in my head for this but nothing concrete as yet. We are looking for builders to come and quote for the demolition and building work – if anyone knows of a builder who might be interested please let me know. Once we have some quotes we can then set too and apply for grants etc. Slow progress but gradually the money is accruing and to all of those of you who have been so supportive a very big thank you – we do very much appreciate your kindness and generosity.
Now I must stop but I will leave you with some pictures from yesterday.