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Tuesday 9th 50F, wall to wall sunshine and a gentle breeze. It was so quiet and pleasant that I extended my walk. Climbing up the hill to take in the distant sea. It feels similar to walking the narrow lanes of my rural childhood back in the 1950s. The absence of traffic being the most obvious reminder of better and worse times. The excited warbler's birdsong from every tree and bush. The blackbirds a more constant, but gentler theme tune. The pretty weeds in flower on the verge and dog roses in the hedgerows. Cloud shadows, chasing each other across the undulating crops.
The two hares were grazing on the, still almost bare, winter flooding patch again. They lolloped off to the far end. To hide, almost halfheartedly, behind clumps of weed. All sticky-up ears and bright eyes when seen through my binoculars.
More cloud now as I wait for morning coffee and toasted rolls. We are down to our last jar of high fruit content, orange marmalade. The last bag of organic porridge oats is also sinking fast.
A ride to a village on an errand. Only about 3 miles.
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