Tag Archives: walking

Monday 25th January – Walking in the Pink

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/

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On Walking: Monday 26th May

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……

MrsCarlieLee

I am walking through the margins in the fields below the dryer, where the grass reaches my mid-thigh, and soaks my jeans above my wellies. I’m walking very slowly, suddenly noticing that there’s a world around me, and that it’s changed completely from the last time I looked.Dora the Jack Russell Terrier

I have been finishing a book, and for the last two months or so, have thought of little else. The book has been sent away now, to Judith, my agent, and I feel as if I’m returning from someplace I can’t explain.

Stevie is relieved it’s over, and both children seem to have grown an inch or so.

But 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…

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On Walking: Monday 6th April

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 ……..”

MrsCarlieLee

It’s the Easter Bank Holiday, and I’m walking before the family arrive, before the house is filled with mad, chocolate-stuffed children, claw-clattering dogs; veg peeling, gravy-making, beef-carving (Are We Sure It’s Done?) and the best of the family gossip. It’s barely eight o’clock, and I slide away from the breakfast dishes muttering about willow branches, their immediate collection deadly necessary for the Easter flower arrangement. It’s still misty down here by the Sor Brook; I’m hidden, hiding.

I hear the rusting-hinge shriek of a pheasant, see Pants shoot off to my right, like a speckled rocket. I follow the deer tracks along the margin, Dora stepping carefully in my wake. Some of the cloven hooves are less than an inch long, and I think of dancing fauns and Rites of Spring.

In Emma’s Meadow, the mist thickens, and I turn left, into the wall of it. The end of the meadow is where the old mill…

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Walk Notice: Sunday 1st March, 10:00 am

Just in case you fancy a spring walk!

The Horley Striders

Walking in the Spring!Strider near Balscote 3

We’re meeting at the Cricket to leave for 10:00.

Definitely be home for the rugby…route and pace depends on who turns up.

Will be ending in the Red Lion

Comment below if you want to ask questions.

Please share, we need more walkers to go on adventures further afield.

Come join us!

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On Walking: Tuesday 24th February

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.

msnd‘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

On Walking in Half-Term – Just Be…

Elle walkingI 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