Briantspuddle again
Just a short walk today. Very tired. One of those outings entirely powered by the lie "The exercise will do you good."
But the sun came out, remarkably. And the rooks in the woods above Briantspuddle were noisily celebrating the blue October sky.
The beeches still green, and, even with the sun shining, last night's rain still falling in heavy drops. The ridge-top path muddy & puddled but not impassable.
Down the hill and through Briantpuddle, with its pretty Arts & Crafts thatched cottages, in the sunshine. Village dogs and their owners greeting each other on their morning walks. A handsome black Scottie dog, young and determined to bark at all the world, settling down to tail-wagging amiability on being allowed to greet a quiet elderly crossbreed.
Crossing the bridge at Throop, a glimpse of a kingfisher - a flash of blue & gone. As always, far too quick for any photo. Took the riverside path as far as the old oak with a swing hanging from its branches out over the river. I am never tempted to swing. Not even in summer, let alone after a wet autumn when the river is high and brown and uninviting. Sat amidst the tangle of tree roots to drink my coffee and watch the water flowing.
I had half-hoped to make a circular walk, following a short stretch of streamside path, then taking the bridleway that runs back towards Briantspuddle. But after so much rain, there wasn't really much hope the path would be passable. The stream had burst its banks and was flowing enthusiastically across the path and out into the fields. The water ankle deep and no possibility of picking a way round the edges. Since I wasn't wearing wellingtons I decided to admit defeat, turned to retrace my steps along the lanes.
An uphill trudge back to the car park at Culpepper's Dish.
Culpepper's Dish. There are hundreds of swallow holes along the ridge of high ground above the Piddle valley, caused by underground water draining away the sandy heathland soil, like sand from an egg-timer. Culpepper's Dish is the largest of them, big enough to completely hide the mature oak trees at the bottom.
Took the back lanes on the way home, and came across a few places where they are flooded and only just passable. And it's only October. I hate to think how wet Dorset is going to be if we have one of our usual rainy Novembers...