Sunday, 31 August 2014

My Daily Ramble

   


   My daily walk was one of interest today, after the first half hour pounding tarmac and concrete at last the atmosphere changed and my footsteps are suddenly absorbed by the narrow farm track with lush cut grass forming my centre eye line for the next mile or so.
   Still the fen breeze blows strong and direct, reeds rustling in the deep farm dyke and what seems like every leaf in tiny orchards tremble. A green woodpecker gives flight as he senses my arrival into his world, his pale green body riding that roller coaster flight of his, up and down he travels until a loud screech signals his arrival in one of an avenue of high poplar trees.
   On my right is around ten or twelve acres of stubble, not crisp new freshly cut wheat or barley, but rain soaked weathered stubble that was cut a couple of weeks past and still cradles those long lines of cut straw, now too wet to bale. On my left sit several parcels of private land, maybe just over an acre in size, some home of small orchards, some set with flowers for cutting, some with regimental lines of vegetables, carrots, beans and leeks and one piece of this rich dark soil left wild, home to an amazing array of birds, I feel so lucky and free from work and the crazy world in which we live, even if for only an hour.


   As I walked I did wonder what backs had bent working the hoe on this stone free black soil a hundred years ago, how cold were these open spaces that produced the food of kings and were their lunches spent like this one, free from noise and among natures summer theatre?
   There are still extensive areas of reed in the fenlands and the same is found here around Upwell which is encouraged by some and frowned upon by others, to me it can only be a great addition to the natural habitat that wildlife need here and let’s be honest, how strange would this magical world of marsh look without the reed beds.

   As I neared the end of my walk a grey heron took off from this hunting stance in the far end of the dyke, his look one of disapproval and disgust, but soon I’d be gone and he would return.

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