Shall we go for a walk?

Beach

Marsh

Kew botanical gardens.

Coastal heathland.

Estuary nature reserve.

And a memorial bench

with a plaque that simply read,

'Wish you were here.'

Looking West

Mise has put up her quarterly post.

Rejoice!

Little Boy Blue

Little Boy Blue,

Come blow on your horn,

The sheep's in the meadow

The cow's in the corn.

Where's the boy

Who looks after the sheep?

He's under a haystack

Fast asleep.

Will you wake him?

No not I,

For if I do

He'll be sure to cry.

I'm brushing up my nursery rhyme repertoire.

You never know when you're going to need a diversionary ditty

with a little one about the house.

But I may have to rewrite this.

We've got quite used to

The ponies on the footpath eating bracken -

 but 

The cow's* in deep woodland eating ivy?

Where is Little Boy Blue when you need him?

*These are British White cattle, 

one of the oldest breeds of cattle in Britain 

with direct links to the ancient indigenous wild white cattle.

They thrive on poor pasture, rough vegetation and heathland

and have been brought in to help manage a coastal nature reserve.

Garden view envy

Shall we take a closer look?

How inviting is that?

And just out of shot,

quite nice horses.

I'm not mad about horses.

My sister was and I used to join in with games

involving homemade hobby horses.

They were made from a bamboo cane and a stuffed sock

with a woollen mane.

We called them Bracken and Briar.

Real ones had a habit of either stopping and refusing to budge,

head down in a grassy verge,

or throwing me off.

 Tania loves horses.

I'm not sure that she comes here,

but just in case she does . . .

Hasty but heartfelt

(Free range Exmoor ponies in Sussex, so sweet.)

Happy New Year post, 

before we step through the door into 2015.

Thank you for your kind visits and messages during 2014.

Every one of them greatly appreciated.

Things to do on the beach in October

Gallop.

Make a dog happy

by throwing pebbles for him to chase.

Bird watch.

Wish you could say you'd seen a Bar-tailed Godwit.

Find and pocket a useful Duralex tumbler.

Seek shells.

Marvel at the tenacity of Marram grass.

Watch the river flow into the sea.

Wonder what these razor shell initials stand for.

Find industrial archaeology.

Find beauty in debris

but wish there wasn't so much of it.

Admire the geology but stay away from the foot of the cliffs

because you've seen the rock fall without warning.

Stand and stare.

Wait for the sun to break through.

Stay as long as possible.

Watch the beach empty.

No walk in the park

In August, two years ago, while walking in Greenwich Park,

I noticed tiny white tufts growing at regular intervals in the grass.

I bent down to examine them and found that they were plastic.

How strange.

Only later did I discover that they were markers 

for the Olympic cross country event.

 Yesterday, we attended the first equestrian event

of the Paralympics at Greenwich Park.

Great Britain's Natasha Baker posted the highest dressage score, 

riding Cabral in driving rain, 

which started just as she entered the arena.

The penultimate rider, Barbara Minneci rode Barilla,

an Irish Sport Horse, sidesaddle.

It was easy to forget why this was not just a walk in the park

for any of the competitors, 

who performed with poise and precision

on their light-footed horses.

 The commentator repeatedly asked for no applause

until the horses were reunited with their handlers,

so I'm clapping loudly now.