All the images, apart from taste, are from one walk from last Sunday - enjoy x
The soft swish-scrunch of each boot as we walk through the moorland grasses which are winter dry, brittle and crisp. The seashell roar of the light breeze past my ears, carrying the peewit cries of the lapwings and the haunting whistle of the lone curlew. A quietly constant deep rumble from distant tiny cars travelling along narrow lanes far on the horizon. The chatter from Youngest who is a steady source of random facts and stories. The click of the lid from the flask, the plop and sploosh as tea is poured and finally the crunch of a biscuit as I bite into a digestive and drink in the view.
That muddy sludge odour when the dog wallows in every boggy patch she can find. The ponds and puddles are beautifully 'stagnant' on the tops - giving dog-walking an added element of 'enjoyment', well, it does to one of our group....
That glorious feeling of warmed wood as I climb over a ladder stile. The ladybird basking in the sunlight confirmed my joy.
Homemade lemon drizzle and sticky ginger cake - two of our favourite tastes.
My usual view, as seen from my perspective, is the sight of my walking pack several meters ahead. Their legs are longer, their stride more consistent and I stop to take photos. They chat - cars, motorbikes, politics and silly cat videos as seen on the internet. I listen to the trees, see the grasses, watch birds and think.
My own choice
That silly-dilly-dog finally rinsing off the black mud she has been caked in for the last couple of miles.