It’s a strange thing, but since being shown my hip x-ray, demonstrating its lamentable state, I’ve been much more confident on longer walks so we’ve been exploring some of the longer tracks through the woods and the riverside circuit has been added back into the repertoire. Now I know it’s just a case of unavoidable pain (pending the op), and nothing I’m doing will actually make things worse, I’ve become positively gung-ho. Perhaps I’m just getting the best of things before I am forced onto my crutches. Whatever the reason I’m so glad I’ve persevered.
There’s an ephemeral lightness in the woods at the moment. Bright green carpets of wild garlic under the birch stands are now topped by crazily exploding flowers, a miasma of white dots that seem to hover, stemless, above the ground. An elderly cherry stands proudly amongst its squirrel sown granddaughters, shedding confetti in a slight breeze. At the top of the slope there are darker broad leaves of ransoms topped by starry white flowers just begging to be collected for pesto making and, down in the beechwood, a sea of wild wood anemone turn their faces up to soak up every glimpse of sun. Best of all, I’ve earmarked a promising stand of foamy blackthorn for future hooch experiments.
And what sun we have had! I have boldly strolled out in shorts (dazzling the lieges with my fluorescent blue pins) and even mum has eschewed her thermals. Walks by the river have been declared double paddle events, with the fluffster urging us down the banking to watch as she patrols the border running down the centre of the river then soaks us with a shake. No marauders or pirates have been detected thus far, though there was a slight stand off with two swans patrolling from the opposite direction. Like Bold Sir Robin, Lyra bravely ran away.
On our old familiar haunt behind the lake, mum and I have spotted a positive plantation of gooseberries and redcurrants in flower. I think in a month or so I will be taking a handy bag with me on our rambles. (This may prove a godsend as we left our currant pruning a bit late and when it did happen it was tackled with the severity one might expect in a prison barber shop). The first pink rhododendron also heralds the season for Dundock wood safaris. Last year we timed it wrong and missed the best of the flowers. Hopefully, this year I’ll catch them before I have to take to my crutches. The floral clock is ticking…..
Glad you’re getting out. When will you have the op? Hope so
End of next month. Lots of weeding to get in first!