Ambling into March
Another grey, cold morning. Met up with C. and her Manchester Terrier for a walk along the foot of the Purbeck Hills, through the scrub and hazel coppice. The underhill path perfectly dry. (In a normal year, it's a heavy slog through mud until at least April). Leaves of Cuckoo Pint and Dog Mercury beginning to green the woodland floor, and on banks the primroses already coming into flower.
A brief stop to admire the vast-as-a-mountain ancient oak in the heart of the woods. C. used to climb that craggy trunk as a child, sit in the mossy saddle where the trunk divides.
Then, back up over the hill, and down into Corfe village as the church bells were ringing. A coffee, sitting outside in the garden of the model village, gloves removed to clasp the cup. Plans made for Spring: a visit to the Wishing Well at Upwey in April when the willows are in leaf, a visit to the Secret Garden at Carey in May when the roses are in flower.
Driving back home, the sun began to break through the cloud. On the river plain, the new twigs on the willows shining copper in the sunlight below an icy pale blue sky. Suddenly it feels like March.
A brief stop to admire the vast-as-a-mountain ancient oak in the heart of the woods. C. used to climb that craggy trunk as a child, sit in the mossy saddle where the trunk divides.
Then, back up over the hill, and down into Corfe village as the church bells were ringing. A coffee, sitting outside in the garden of the model village, gloves removed to clasp the cup. Plans made for Spring: a visit to the Wishing Well at Upwey in April when the willows are in leaf, a visit to the Secret Garden at Carey in May when the roses are in flower.
Driving back home, the sun began to break through the cloud. On the river plain, the new twigs on the willows shining copper in the sunlight below an icy pale blue sky. Suddenly it feels like March.