There is quiet

I was up with the lark and so caught an early train home.

It had been a fantastic couple of days, so I thought I would quit while I was ahead and besides, I had a fair bit to see to this afternoon.

Having come from a busy, noisy London, I was struck by the silence and clean air as I marched down the hill from Oxenholme with my bag slung over my shoulder. It really is a lovely view to return home to.

I took a wander into town for some supplies and then got my head down for a bit, before another wander and some top notch pottering about in the yarden in the evening sunshine.

Feeling the burn ahead of a busy week, but ready to deal with it head-on after a perfect weekend.

No. No, I don’t want to talk about the golf.