sunday seasons; gold leaf

The sun is streaming through the kitchen window as we break our fast. We’re talking about the woods we went to on friday and all the photos we didn’t take.
Me; “let’s go back now”.
Anniemay; “I need to shower and do my hair first”.
Me; “but it’s sunny - let’s just go”.
Anniemay; “I’m not going out looking like this”.
Me; “But it’s just the woods. I’ll give you a £1000 if you go now”.
This is not a rash bet on my part. Experience has taught me I am on completely safe ground here.

She points to her hair; “I didn’t do it yesterday. I’ll be 45 minutes.”
And 45 minutes later we’re in the car.

The carpark is almost full; mostly dog walkers and the cafe is doing a roaring trade. Dogs are not allowed inside so there’s a queue of owners at a window waiting for coffee and bacon rolls. Hmm; perhaps later.

We head along a path that takes us up to the Greensand Ridge Way. Annie-mountain goat-may sets a brisk pace, but I’m not far behind. I have developed a knack for tackling steep slopes, which I employ when there are other people around, to give the appearance of not being in trouble. Because I usually am in trouble. I will fumble with my camera and pretend to take a picture while I catch my breathe. But not this morning. I feel as if steam is coming out of my ears as I wheeze my way to the top, without stopping. That bacon roll is now well and truly mine.

We walk for about an hour, blipping in companionable silence, save only for the occasional “have a look at this”. I suppose it should be obvious but some parts of the woods look completely different when the sun is shining. Not better, nor worse. Just different. The changes in light and mood will provide many blips for weeks to come.

We eventually return to the carpark cafe for the aforementioned bacon roll and sit inside watching the dogs outside watching us.

Note; the image is a bit more 'in your face' when viewed large.