Sticky moments

A farm building at Climperwell, a euphonious place name if any there is, sports this weather vane, which I spotted today towards the end of our walk. Three of us set out in the mist from Foston's Ash, traipsing through more mud than we have been used to for many a month.

But what has become of the driver of this handsome combo? Was he perhaps distracted while bowling along through nearby Buckle Woods, and - failing to anticipate a bend - ejected from his carriage? A sticky moment. Similar indeed to the one that we so nearly experienced in those same woods en route to our rendezvous this morning.

It put me in mind of the first of three major brushes with death I have had in the past forty years: it took place forty years ago today. At about 8 p.m. I was driving home from Kingham Station when, near Bledington - a fitting location - I ran into the back of an ill-lit farm trailer. Thank God for seat belts!

The Evenlode

Yesterday, we did our Romanian reunion walk, postponed from February because of flooding. Where I stood to take this photograph (looking from Gloucestershire into Oxfordshire) would have been under water three months ago. Even now, it's boggy.

Eleven of us set out from Kingham Station up the West bank of the Evenlode to Oddington, before crossing to Adlestrop and on to Chastleton. After such a lunch as we were treated to, there was a generally glad acceptance of the offer of lifts back. A brilliant outing.

Eponymous

I suggested a Cotswold walk to my Romanian walking companions of last May, who took up the idea. The date was fixed for later this month, but in view of the great rains I thought I had better investigate the state of the footpaths leading from Kingham Station, our rendezvous.

A pretty path normally runs North along the West side of the River Evenlode: after 400 metres it disappears, currently: the river bank is now no longer visible. So what remains is a walk along the road through Kingham village, till you reach a path across to the edge of the Daylesford Estate.

A series of more or less colourful owners have held Daylesford over the years. Warren Hastings, impeached for "high crimes and misdemeanours" in India; Harman Grisewood (not the actor); the 2nd Lord Rothermere; Baron Thyssen, and now the Bamford family. Princess Margaret's son has a cottage on the estate.

Walking through, it all reeks of expenditure - most visible through the sculpture and horsiculture - but, no arguing, it's well kept. My photograph shows one of the products that secured the Bamfords' position in the world doing its work, no doubt with a view to making things - ultimately - even more beautiful. I had to traipse through the mud meanwhile.