Fortunately this afternoon the breeze became stronger and the air in consequence fresher, free of the clinging humidity of the last two days.I put my book aside and went for a walk. There’s a ridge, I presume manmade, that protects the fields beyond from flooding, and it allows views across the flat farmland. This is fertile country and everywhere you look is green and growth. I took some pictures, but it seems the internet connection keeps dropping so I may not be able to upload them.
I haven’t seen the cows all day. Where are they? A moment ago I heard a cow mooing and looked up, hoping to see the herd in the field beyond the fence but nothing. The cow I heard was probably across the river. In the other direction there is another farm, or rather a farm house with a couple of fields. The last people to live there were very unfriendly and bred dogs which barked a great deal and which I used to pity. The current owners keep hens, horses, some rare breed sheep, and two llamas. I hadn’t noticed the llamas until this afternoon. I haven’t met the owners, but like their predecessors they have roped off a path which when I first came here people were free to use, so maybe they don’t want to meet the neighbours either.
I had a conversation with the Dan, son of the couple who own the marina, and another with a woman who has a boat here with her husband. Until now the woman and I have only smiled and said hello. Today we talked about Coronavirus and the uncertainty of the future. It was a similar story with Dan.
On my walk I saw conkers, ripe blackberries, bullrushes. Signs of autumn. So far most of the pandemic has been during fine weather. the spring was unusually warm. Meeting outside, in gardens, things seem almost normal. What will it be like if we are still trying to keep our distance at Christmas?
Until this summer I had never seen wild swimmers in the river here. Now they and paddle boarders are a regular sight. I wish I were a good enough swimmer to join them. It looks wonderful.
MasterB has had two walks, a short one this evening when he signalled he wanted to return to das Boot after just a few minutes, and a much longer one this morning. I enjoy the morning ones more. Today I watched a heron crouched by the water looking for prey, and bees busy among the lavender flowers while MasterB’s mind was on other things. In the evenings there are more insects, especially ones that bite The swallows snatch them out of the air, skimming just above the water’s surface.
I haven’t read the newspaper or listened to the radio, so I am blissfully ignorant of whatever shenanigans our politicians are up to now. I may catch up tomorrow.
Stay safe. Keep well. Be kind.