Brimpsfield

Four of us met at Nettleton Bottom this morning for a shortish walk in the Brimpsfield area. It wasn't as muddy as we feared, though there was plenty of climbing over stiles. Brimpsfield itself is a more extensive village than I had realised, but with few buildings of much real interest apart from the church: we explored that at some length, and John kindly advanced me the wherewithal to buy one of the excellent guidebooks.

This evening, we have been watching old film, brought (on DVD) by Caroline's cousin, who is staying: it included joyous scenes of a 10-year-old Caroline as a bridesmaid in Lincolnshire, and later with her donkey in Devon.

The slow lane

Rosie - our springer spaniel - has not hitherto featured a great deal in my blog, but here she takes centre stage, along with my companion of yesterday morning, Maestro Smith. Elise, not in the slow lane this weekend, had left Martin a grass widower, to whom we promised a walk and lunch.

We met at Brimpsfield - Martin, fashionably late as usual (but not much) - and walked Southwards along the open valley below Eddington Wood. Here - contrast Thursday's post - you would never know you were only a mile from the A417(T) dual carriageway.

This photograph was taken as we approached Caudle Green, where we saw the largest clump of Autumn cyclamen you could hope to find, and Rosie was in her element chasing roadside pheasants. Our path went left, up another equally lovely valley through Ostrich and Poston Woods, thankfully free of the threat of being overlooked by any Syde Park mansion development. Finally, we passed Brimpsfield Park's lakes, pausing to watch a single swan cruising carelessly.

All this in shirtsleeves, and good conversation too.