Glorious Sunday

What a glorious day. Let us mark it down to remember next time its raining heavens hard. Sunday April 17^th in the year of our Lord 2016. 

Every weekend when we go out in the woods fairly close to out home, (almost three  miles, as the crow fly’s), for our longer, more hilly run, we do always hope to have our physical effort rewarded with a wild life sighting or two.  

We parked our battered old car Marcus; who is second hand after my daughter Jacqueline’s ownership. She likes to name all useful items, as do we in fact. We name our bikes and our business vehicles and my mascot bear, oh yes and pretty much all other totally useless items, like Raoul the rabbit, who sits on our bed and allows my husband and I to have differences of opinions without having a barney by saying  “Well Placido told me that you are were a lazy git and that is why you hang the clothes you take off when you come home from work, over my best bike”. Steve might reply “Raoul told me that you smashed the front spoiler off the front of Marcus when you tried and failed to do a three point turn on the muddy corner at the back”. Jacqueline has a camera called Noah the magnificent and the older one is called Claude, she has several other items with posh names. When we took possession of Marcus we tried to change the name and sex from Marcus to Marcia but Jakki made such a fuss that we gave in and reverted to Marcus. 

I wandered off a bit there didn’t I? Back to square one. Super day, blue, blue sky sunshine but very, very cold early on: like, see your breath cold. When we started our run just after 8am, I didn’t last long before needing a walk break because my lungs felt as if I had swallowed ice cubes. Yes, yes I know, if I had swallowed ice cubes they would not end up in my lungs, but it did feel like that though. 

The main feature was that the Bluebells had hit their finest hour: well actually it’s more like two and a half weeks. “OMG” will be heard repeatedly for that time span because it is a splendid, purple carpet through the wood as far as you can see through the trees. Magical. The smell is utterly heavenly and no matter how many years you see the bloobies bloom, it is always the best memory of the year. Then, we saw simply loads of little deer, no white ones today sadly, I love the white ones. The little Yellowhammer popped out of the hedge he calls home, to pose for the camera, as did a sweet little Sparrow, they seemed to be friends. The quiet of the woods was spoiled by an orienteering event with lots of cars. We did get a Marshall to take our photo together, at least we thought he had until we got home and the photo was not there!