Jackie was up in the dark this morning, in time to photograph
our first smattering of snow before the rain washed it away.
This afternoon we drove to Crestwood in Lymington to complete the paperwork and pay a deposit on our new sitting room flooring which will be laid after Christmas. We continued on to the north of the forest by way of
Roger Penny Way where
the gloom could not conceal the burnished gold of bracken
and autumn leaves.
Among the fallen trees
a skeletal cervine spectre remained tethered beside a moss-coated log.
Blissford Hill was not the only thoroughfare becoming waterlogged enough for arboreal reflection.
The pannage season has been extended. Pigs dashed towards us on
Hyde Hill where Jackie parked the Modus ahead of the
billowing sounder, too fast for me to keep up with.
Suddenly they dashed off piste and disappeared into a soggy field.
I needed to wade through sucking mud to reach the gate.
A somewhat perplexed freckled Shetland pony, sharing its field with
two be-rugged horses and an oak tree, observed the porcine proceedings.
Many thatched cottages, like this one at North Gorley, were able to admire their coiffure in their weedy green pools.
Since our dinner was being slow-roasted while we were out, I had no qualms that I might have been eating the shoulder of one today’s snuffling pigs with crispy crackling, Yorkshire pudding, creamy mashed potatoes, crunchy carrots, and tender cabbage with most tasty gravy. Jackie drank Hoegaarden and I finished the Fleurie.