An Enid Blyton Adventure

Today’s adventure includes a missing bridge, the dog who refuses to climb a stile, and raspberry buns for elevenses.

The mysterious missing bridge means The Seven have to backtrack a quarter of a mile, clamber down a steep, overgrown bank, then splash through a gloomy culvert, buried deep underground beneath the canal.

Abandoning the route laid out on the treasure map, they climb up through the trees, skirt a golf course, pass through open fields and hack their way along woodland trails almost hidden by bracken. All the time on the lookout for yellow arrow clues. At length, they find themselves forced to wade along a path, inches deep in mud!

The flowers of late summer tumble over garden walls and gigantic fish swim in a secret, uncharted pool.

There are ducks aplenty, friendly swans (phew!) and sheep, of course. And lots of strangers - disguised as fishermen, conservation workers and towpath cyclists. There’s even an itinerant family on a barge.

They walk miles further than they’d planned to. But they have lots of jolly japes. And they still make it home in time for tea.

The Ground Beneath My Feet

When I’m out walking, I frequently look up - to the treetops and to the sky. I always look sideways - at the fields and the hedgerows. But rarely - well, never - do I keep my eyes fixed to the ground.

So this morning, I did.

Joss and I were wandering up a lane which is very scenic, upwards and sideways. But I’ve always thought it pretty uninteresting at ground level. It’s a rough track composed of dirt and gravel. That’s it. Or so I thought. Turns out there’s a bit more to it than that.

Embedded in the soil, there’s a stray red brick. And an old railway sleeper. And a shard of green glass. And a beautiful, vivid blue stone.

Etched into the soft surface, this morning, were patterns made by tyre tracks and horseshoes. Though hoof prints weren’t the only things the horses had left behind!

There were frequent puddles and little rivulets of water. In which the swaying tree-tops waved to their own reflections.

The sun set shadows dancing - as the rosebay willowherb tossed in the breeze. My own shadow appeared sporadically: looming before me one moment; vanishing into the brown earth again the next.

The trees had shed their bounty along the way. We found rowan berries and beech nuts; seed-pods and squashed fruit; the first fallen leaves of autumn and a boomerang-shaped twig.

Humans have wantonly added to the surface decoration - with an abandoned bottle, a crisp packet, a sweet wrapper; a black bin liner and a bottle top inscribed DRENCH. Even a purple hair ribbon with white spots. Which reminded me of one I had as a little girl.

My favourite find of all was a dull red rock, sunk into the ground, which looked as if it had been cut into six wavy pieces of pie.

We found so many treasures, it takes two whole photo collages to spill the loot. And even that’s not everything.

So if ever you see a blonde-haired girl, mooching along with a dog at her heels and her nose to the ground….know that her eyes are open.

The Burnished Moors

The heather's really fading now.  The lilac flowers are turning a pale, coppery pink.

While the scene in general is no longer as spectacular as it was a couple of weeks ago, the individual bushes are every bit as lovely in a different way.  Their new, burnished hue is so very autumnal - and I love the colours of autumn.

Earlier this evening, Joss and I lay on a bed of heather, surrounded by the dying blossoms.  The softening light filtered gently through the stems, making them glow.  Dusk is my favourite time of day and the promise of my favourite season hung in the air.

The moors have many moods.  This was a good one.

Like Teddy Bears

Remember the pups?

One found a new home; but the other two seem to have stayed in my care.  I can't say I'm complaining.

They're ten weeks old now and just like teddy bears.  Well....maybe a bit more boisterous.  Life is an unending game of tag mixed with a fair amount of rough and tumble.

We have our quiet moments, too.  They're still small enough to be scooped up together in my arms for a family snuggle.  Soon I'll be cuddling one at a time.  Then they'll be too heavy to lift at all.

They had their final vaccinations today, which means that next week they can sally forth into the big, wide world.  I'll introduce them to Joss and take them rambling on the moors.  We'll have a few heady months of perpetual playtime before they settle down to the grown-up business of becoming sheepdogs.

Till then, we frolic!

The Upside Down Rainbow

It’s the last day of the month; and, while autumn is still officially three weeks or so away, there’s a sense that summer is ending.

Another week and then the children will return to school. We’ll fall into routines, old and new….start looking towards longer nights, turning leaves, cosy fires.

Spring was so gorgeous this year; summer so dismal. And yet….did wishing bring it about? The final day of August has been one of the loveliest days of the year. A true, blue sky day. Topped off - most remarkably - by an upside down rainbow. Not on the horizon - but far above the earth where the clouds pass by.

Of all the rainbows we’ve had recently, this was the most special. There’d been no rain all day - just sunshine and warmth. Then suddenly, hanging from the heavens, this arc of light.

That has to be an omen of good things to come.