The sky almost couldn’t be more beautiful, more ecstatic, and I know that it heralds rain and greyness to come, but I don’t care. I stand and stretch, pulling in the pink air around me.
Sometimes it’s worth the bad bits, in order to revel in the good.
Dawn is breaking as Pants and I come back from morning walk; great cracks of crimson and violet splitting the dome of the sky. We’ve been to the orchard field, and we go down to the cricket so I can walk clean my boots.
I know my cheeks must be flushed pink, and my hair is wild. I feel vitally, wonderfully alive; the wind is soft against my face, and the air smells of green-things and earth, of new life and living…….
Source: Monday 25th January http://thecountryhousewife.com/
Here comes summer……it’s the land that has really changed; the earth has warmed up, and you can smell summer on the air. Down in Bra Corner there’s a clump of pink campions, flowering as high as my hip, and nettles, growing even higher. The Sor Brook is low and slow; its depths bronzed in the sunlight……
Another blinder by our resident pro blogger “I climb the bank to the stile and pause, looking out over the valley towards Horley. The mist has almost burnt away now, the village has reappeared in the early sun. I shimmy through the uprights of the stile, holding the goat ……..”
Just in case you fancy a spring walk!
The wind is cold, strong. It flips up my dress, pulls my hair from its pins, boxes my face. The dogs and I jump the ditch, cross into Dave’s field. The sun gleams in a line along the beaten mud of the footpath. I eschew its slippery promises of speed, take to the margins.
‘So will I live, so grow, so die,’ I say. I push my way through the secret passage, stumbling, as I’m trying to read……..
On Walking: Tuesday 24th February.
Horley Footlights A Midsummer’s Night Dream
I am perched on a stile in the sun, feeling its warmth on my black-clad legs, on my forehead, my hair. I close my eyes, tip back my face further, breathe in, breathe out. The children are crashing around in the covert further down; I can hear a blackbird scolding them. My daughters continue their secret mission, calling to each other in the American accents of their private play world.
We’re in the Spring Field. The Sor Brook runs through the bottom of the valley, and Horley stretches cat-like over the hill beyond.
I can smell the resin of the spruces around me; the pureness of the cold air. I straighten my back, stretch out my arms, balance, imagine the sun soothing, heating; enlivening every inch of me. I don’t need to think, speak, react. Just be. Right here, right now. Blissful.
Want more On Walking in Half-Term: Tuesday 17th February from our resident author mrscarlielee from her diary of a country house wife
Sunday 15th February Hurrah, hurrah! Our first proper walk of the year!
We started from Horley at 1:00pm, and went over the old railway to Drayton, through the defunct golf course, and then through the cutting down the middle…. The Horley Striders | Walk On.
A breath of fresh air does wonders again for those nursing the sick…………..
Now getting into the New Years Eve Spirit with our own resident blogger Mrs Lee. I’m just of for a walk on this fine frosty sunny morning and will take some photo’s of our fab Horley “views” to include on our site. If you have any you would like to share please email them to me firstname.lastname@example.org and we can all enjoy them…………..
Getting into the Christmas Spirit with our own resident blogger Mrs Lee