Somewhat at a loose end yesterday afternoon because there was no iai training (the Katori chaps who we share the hall with were having a seminar) and the lawn was still too wet from recent rain to mow, I decided to take a drive out to my old 'stamping ground' and indulge in a walk.
The ground was still wet but the sun was now out and beaming warmly, so the trees and the wildflowers were filling the air with that gorgeous scent that only ancient woodland can have.
The birds were also out in force, filling the air with a myriad variants of "Anyone comes near here is in for a fight, I'm right hard I am!" and "Anyone up for a shag!?" .. except of course they make it sound like liquid poetry
.
The bees and butterflies were everywhere it seemed, adding their contented sound and colour to the scene.
An elderly Jack Russel bounded down the valley sides towards me and for a second I thought my tranquility was going to take a dent but he just came up to me, gave me a sniff and proceeded to walk with me as if he'd decided to adopt me. We had a bit of chat and I figured out he'd left his human behind because she was going too slow.
I met her as she caught up whilst I was taking a moment to admire an intense swathe of bluebells between the oaks, rowan and birch. A lovely elder (tho' not elderly) lady with a kind heart she turned out to be - she'd taken the dog on from a shelter where he'd been because he had been mistreated. He was a bit of a handful for some years, it seems but gradually calmed down. We walked and talked a while and then, as chance met travellers often do, she went off back up the valley towards home. I'll probably never see her again but it was a pleasant meeting.
Not too many yards later, the trees opened up on one side and I could see across a small fishing lake, a water meadow and the river to where the local cricket team had a match on. The teams in proper dress whites, the crack of leather and willow, the applause and the odd cry of "Well struck, sir!" {yes, we do still talk that way sometimes over here, it's not just me :lol:}. Wonderful.
Then, to cap it all off, down the bridle path came four horses, each with a pretty lass atop it. Smiles and "Good afternoon"'s all round as I stood to one side for them and, though I might not actually believe in his existence, in that moment, so quintessentially English to it's core, I thanked God for the land of my birth.
As I said in the title, some days are just perfect.
The ground was still wet but the sun was now out and beaming warmly, so the trees and the wildflowers were filling the air with that gorgeous scent that only ancient woodland can have.
The birds were also out in force, filling the air with a myriad variants of "Anyone comes near here is in for a fight, I'm right hard I am!" and "Anyone up for a shag!?" .. except of course they make it sound like liquid poetry
.The bees and butterflies were everywhere it seemed, adding their contented sound and colour to the scene.
An elderly Jack Russel bounded down the valley sides towards me and for a second I thought my tranquility was going to take a dent but he just came up to me, gave me a sniff and proceeded to walk with me as if he'd decided to adopt me
. We had a bit of chat and I figured out he'd left his human behind because she was going too slow. I met her as she caught up whilst I was taking a moment to admire an intense swathe of bluebells between the oaks, rowan and birch. A lovely elder (tho' not elderly) lady with a kind heart she turned out to be - she'd taken the dog on from a shelter where he'd been because he had been mistreated. He was a bit of a handful for some years, it seems but gradually calmed down. We walked and talked a while and then, as chance met travellers often do, she went off back up the valley towards home. I'll probably never see her again but it was a pleasant meeting.
Not too many yards later, the trees opened up on one side and I could see across a small fishing lake, a water meadow and the river to where the local cricket team had a match on. The teams in proper dress whites, the crack of leather and willow, the applause and the odd cry of "Well struck, sir!" {yes, we do still talk that way sometimes over here, it's not just me :lol:}. Wonderful.
Then, to cap it all off, down the bridle path came four horses, each with a pretty lass atop it. Smiles and "Good afternoon"'s all round as I stood to one side for them and, though I might not actually believe in his existence, in that moment, so quintessentially English to it's core, I thanked God for the land of my birth.
As I said in the title, some days are just perfect
.
