Walk around the countryside

Be warned: this one is loooong but it's got pretty pictures

I try and go for a short walk every day. It helps to keep active, although I have to make sure I don't get too tired; something called chronic fatigue has possessed me and it doesn't want to share me with too many activities.
Usually, I'll make a short, twenty minute lap around the village or, if I feel up to it and have company with me for reassurance, I'll venture into the fields a bit. Not longer than 40 minutes overall, the penalties for over stretching myself are harsh - up to three days in bed or with hardly any mobility at all.

So, when I set off on my walk yesterday, with cheerful sun on my back and warm breeze in my ear, I had not planned to go far. I'd figured I'd just walk to the next village along, fifteen minutes and fifteen back - half an hour, all told.

It was a lovely day, yesterday. Can't quite remember another one quite like it in the last couple of months, certainly not one I had been able to enjoy like this. I made it as far as the edge of the neighbouring village, where the tiny, fairy tale cottages stand sentinel like in a row, next to a small road that leads who knows where.

I felt fine. I felt full of beans and I didn't want my walk to stop so I carried on walking.


I walked past the yellow brick pillars with a sign for public footpath and onto a straight dirt road.




The soft grass on the verge was fragrant with the scent of wild flowers and I couldn't help myself.


With the sky being so blue and the gentle, balmy wind caressing my bare arms, I stretched out on the grass with my hands behind my head and lost myself in the Pleasant.

I kept my eyes closed for a long time, inhaling the sweet, soothing fragrance of wild flowers.

Eventually, my eyelids fluttered open of their own volition and I looked into the bluest, clearest sky.

I lay there for few more minutes, it felt incredibly comfortable, the mix of grass and moss cushioning my body like an exquisite live mattress. I could have stayed there forever, but I could hear a van approaching and I got up quickly, not wishing to be seen prostrate on the grass next to a road, like a crazy person. [what if they stopped and tried to talk to me!?]

 I stood up and looked around. To my left was a green field full of succulent cabbages or kale or some such green vegetable.

I could see the church tower far in the distance, almost hidden behind rows of trees. It made me think of citadels and princesses in need of rescuing.

On my right was a recently plowed field where who knows what had grown. The neat narrow lines ran the length of the field and in the corners they met and criss-crossed over and danced a mysterious earthy dance.

I took it all in and continued on.

The path took me past some houses and the old windmill and, turning sharply left, continued between more fields.

Straw bales from last year's harvest were thrown on a heap to one side.

The straw bales. Someone had started to stack them up neatly but evidently lost heart quite quickly allowing the bales of straw to create an abandoned ancient ruins effect.

Very picturesque, I thought.

As was this view. The horizon just seemed to stretch for ever and instead of making me feel sad, as the flat lands tend to do some people, it filled me with wonder and air. The opposite of claustrophobia - what is that?



Anyway, I carried on and came across some berries:

Luckily, I knew which ones were good to eat so I picked them and ate handfuls.

They were juicy and sweet and even though I had to bat away couple of wasps and clean my mouth from stray cobwebs once or twice, they were yummy.





I carried on my walk, wondering what I would find next. Even though I had been this way before, I had forgotten exactly which way the path wound and kept looking out for the small yellow arrows to indicate I was on the right track.

World was calm all around me, the only sounds coming from birds fluttering about, chirping about their business but I was starting to get a bit worried. I knew I'd be coming to a field where evil, dangerous cows grazed. I had been chased by those cows once or twice before and even though I had been scared at the time, I hadn't been alone - there had been someone with me. This time I was on my own and I was terrified. I figured I'd probably turn back once I spotted them, if it turned out they were not far enough from the path for me to get by them safely.  There would be a wooden step in the fence soon, and beyond it the field with the cows.

But for now, there was only a comfortable, meandering grass path, flanked by berry laden bushes and tame fields.

 Eventually, the old, rickety wooden step came into view, half hidden by bramble and overgrown hedge, and I stepped over, ready to jump back at once, should I spot a menacing herd on the other side.

My heart was pounding in my chest and I had started to perspire from the effort of the walk. I knew I didn't have it in me to run past the cows and I wondered if I'd manage go back the way I came, the fatigue was already reaching its creepy tentacles through my body.

The field on the other side seemed bereft of grazing monsters and I allowed myself a small sigh of relief. Still, I kept a watchful eye on the horizon, to be safe.

I made my way cautiously, keeping close to the hedge and trying to step around tall thistles that grew everywhere.

Rabbits darted left and right, giving me a fright and ungraciously refusing to pose for a photograph.

At last, the other gate came into view and I hurried towards it and the field beyond.


That shadow in the bottom right hand corner is me, taking the photograph. I am not saluting the gate, although you'd be forgiven to think that, considering.




I crossed the small bridge and ventured forth. Normally, I wouldn't trespass through a field, but it had been harvested and there was no harm in me stepping on the dry stalks. Besides, there were possibly cows to be found on the real path which I had abandoned to go traipsing through this crunchy land.

I walked and walked and walked and the fields were neverending.

At one point I smelled a pungent odour of cat spray where some wild feline had marked it's territory.  It made me feel a bit uneasy because the scent was so strong and so obvious and so large that it put me in mind of the smells found in zoos and wild animal sanctuaries. Even if this had been done by a domestic cat, it was one kitty I was not looking forward to meeting. Would the perils of this walk never end?

I had brought with me only my tiny camera; no mobile phone, no money, no GPS tracker strapped to my wrist. I didn't really know where I was, and if some wild animal attacked me, noone would know and noone would hear my cries for help.  Suddenly,  the trusty English countryside didn't seem quite as tame as all that.

I fought the increasing fatigue and pressed on, hoping I would be able to sweet talk any passing beastie into leaving me alone.

My wrist is a watch free zone and without my mobile phone I couldn't know how much time had passed since I'd left the house but I had the feeling it had been a while. The light was beginning to change, the sky grew grayer and the first chill of the early evening pinched at my bare arms.

Surely, sooner or later, these fields had to end somewhere green.

When I came to this, I thought I was dreaming of being Alice. I didn't dare turn around to check that the bare, yellowed fields were still behind me, for fear that this lush green oasis would disappear if I even so much as blinked.

There were rabbits hopping about and soft grass under my feet clearly a path that led somewhere; to the road, I hoped.




In the meantime, I enjoyed the varied views around me, the gnarled roots in the almost dry dike and the cool, shady forest. At the end of the grassy path sat two white bee hives, but there were no bees.

Feeling uplifted because I recognised the field in front of me as one that bordered the fast country road that winds between my village and the next, I cheered and smiled to myself.  All I had to do was cross the field in front of me and hope there is no fence at the road verge.

It didn't look like getting through it should be trouble.

Except, it was. The soft mossy growth covered hundreds of hidden potholes and chest high nettles and spiky thistles grew in undulating swathes, forcing me to zig-zag through the field in order to reach the road.

To top it all of, at the edge of this inhospitable meadow, there was a deep ditch, overgrown with tall, thick nettles running the length of the road.

Great, I thought. Not only will I be stung by nettles, but because I cannot see where I'm stepping and how wide this thing really is, I may end up with a twisted or broken ankle, stuck in a deep gutter where I wouldn't be seen from the road.

Still. I had come this far.

Carefully placing my feet, I edged as far to my side of the ditch as I safely could and tensing my tired muscles leapt over to the other side. In the next moment I was walking on the pavement along the road, as if nothing had happened.

Not wishing to forget my adventure so quickly, I turned around for one more look.

 

Five minutes later and I was safely at home. I had been gone for two hours, though it felt more like two days. Feeling racked by the maddening fatigue, I collapsed in bed and slept for a long, long time.

Special note: If any of the farmers whose fields and lands I trespassed are reading this: I am sorry, the cows made me do it!