Just back from my regular early morning walk over Bringsty Common - and still in recovery!
Joe's abed and Di has escaped back to Brum - something about a singing engagement at Symphony Hall. Apparently, she's part of the warm-up act for the CBSO's, Dream of Gerontius - nothing that couldn't have waited. I'm inclined to think that she simply wanted to get away from our male conversation - all clipped, morose and monosyllabic.
But seriously, if you want to introduce some cardio-vascular work into a morning stroll get a dog and come here to the Common. Better still borrow my dog, - that is, our dog - well, even 'our' dog is a tad presumptuous. You won't get much of a conversation out of Woody but he'll always be there, some 15 yards behind you, moving with the same head-down, doleful, hip-rolling gait.
You could then, of course, take the gentle or the head-on ascent of Watership Down. If the latter, be aware that when you are struggling the most, the chiff-chaffs have this intensely irritating habit of laughing at you from hawthorn trees that line the path. They insistently giggle, if not monotously, then no better than di-otously. It's not as if they have the output of an avian string quartet!
As you climb, head-down and Woodylike, you can study the minute tunnel entrances of the local burrowing bees and admire the splashes of eponymous colour from the dog violets, which, the display board in the car park tells me, are the food plant of the rare, pearl-bordered and heath fritillaries.
If you are at all like me and accompanied by someone with greater lung and thigh capacity, you can even pretend to find it important to stop from time to time and pompously intone, surreptiously-garnered, secondhand information.
All of which leads me to say that if anyone is to blame for this sudden arrival of blogging omnibuses look no further than Del and her recent expression of interest.
I'd give you her contact details but that might only serve to encourage a disproportionate act of vengeance.
Good to see you are enjoying country pursuits. I was particularly interested in your comments about the chiff-chaffs. I can assure you they aren't laughing at you. They are very territorial. It is spring and the slightly annoying song can be translated roughly as, "F**k me or f**k off!"
ReplyDelete...and I feel sorry for Woody.
We seemed to have missed that coffee in Moseley. Let me know when you are back and we can warn The Java lounge about an impending visit.