Today’s weather was dry and largely overcast.
This afternoon, isolated in our Modus, we took a drive into the forest. No other humans were about when I disembarked with my camera.
A pedestrian was approaching in the distance when we were beset by donkeys on the road through South Gorley. I photographed the obstinate brindled obstacles through the windscreen.
Persistent ponies pastured as best they could on the muddy greens at North Gorley.
One, in particular, took its grass in a still wet ditch.
All their legs bore wet or dry mud.
Further along the road at Ibsley a solitary grey cast a spotlight on its field, while
a bay collected bramble neckwear as it foraged around
slices of a a gradually decomposing sawn tree trunk.
Bare branches blended against the sky.
On the road to Appleslade I was reminded that I have been remiss in not, like Thomas Hardy, treating the forest landscape as a character worthy of its own place in narrative. I made a start on putting this right.
Beyond Linwood the road continues uphill in preparation for crossing under the A31.
This evening we dined on Jackie’s spicy chicken jalfrezi, savoury rice, palak paneer, and onion bahjji, with which she drank Hoegaarden and I drank more of the El Zumbido Garnach Syrah.