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Writer's pictureJen Blaxall.

Wet and gloomy walk


Opening the curtains at 6am was a surprise as the garden was a blanket of white and the snow still coming! But after an early morning swim the snow had turned to rain. I figured my hair was already wet from my swim so off to the forest I went.

The ponies were backed up to the trees against the rain in a meditative state but the weather was not going to dampen the spirit of the blackbird singing from the treetops. That was enough to brighten anyone's day.

At first glance the forest seemed muted and grey until you really looked. Copper beech leaves were still clinging on amongst new buds nestled in the backdrop of evergreen conifers which were weighed heavy by continuing raindrops. Golden catkins draped branches like jewels and sunshine gorse flowers burst with yellow against the grey.

Log piles were carpeted in bright green moss where a wren was busy hopping in and out of the pile doing some housekeeping and everything had a powdering of snow where the rain had not quite reached.

I was joined for a fleeting moment by two goldcrests chasing though the nearby boughs and I watched a muntjac scurry through the trees. Nuthatches called and treecreepers moved in there mechanical way down trunks.

Walking through the very tall and majestic conifers I felt very small in my surroundings and almost like the only person in the world!

So was my cold, wet walk gloomy?

..... far from it!





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