Winter winds blow

With heavy fast moving rain forecast and winds lashing the trees back and forth it seemed a 'good time' to go for a walk .... said Moss...... and we (strangely) agreed.

Wrapped up well - to the point on waddling not walking and finding it almost impossible to bend, we set off. Down the main road through the village, past the fairy light encrusted Christmas tree outside of the community centre, turning right up dead duck hill (double quick puff) then right again up a small track towards a cluster of houses. Although we know it is a bit early in the season - we are on the watch out for lambs. We know that they have started to appear.

Round the goose-field to the rec. Moss races the wind as she chases her frizbee, hurtling along the grass at breakneck speed. Following the far edge, we stepped back out of the grounds, across puddle lane and into the sheep filled souterills. Moss threw herself into the winter 'lake' and steamed herself cool again, willing us to let her off her lead, but with hugely pregnant ewes watching warily - her request was refused.

We walk through the upper souterill field making a slight detour past the Highland coo field - checking for calves, they appear soon after Christmas, large fluffy teddy bear beasties hunkering down in the moorland grasses while their mothers watch carefully through thick and wind tousled fringes.

Then down the lane to the nature reserve, still one eye out for lambs and now hares. I can hear the tinkling of the windchimes as we pass chicken accident quarry. Then we leave the lane and turn left up the Ferndene, skipping puddles and dodging flooded paths, past Sagar's Lake, the meadow, the picnic grounds, play park and then back on to the road. A sneaky turn right onto David's walk then home following the main road into the village.

Our walks are are memory maps, with names from village history or from our own stories. Some from when the boys were little and found it difficult to describe where they were, some are anecdotal tales from friends and others associated with events that occurred. All very personal to us yet instantly recognisable to others.

Home now, we managed to avoid the rain but we feel wind battered. So with lunch consumed and mugs of tea being cradled in fingers, we can hear the wind howling around the house and calling down the chimney - but we don't mind. It is all part of the season, the place we live and our lives.