Taking A Chance

There is a direct path from the kitchen window featuring our late beloved blogging friend, Pauline’s, light catcher to my computer station.

The light prism cast by this often accompanies me as it did this morning – a comforting reminder of a lovely lady.

After a reading session this afternoon Jackie drove me to Puttles Bridge so I could walk

along the Ober Water Trail. There were very few other walkers; only the barking of dogs disturbed the otherwise silent solitude. Fallen and broken trees, some across the stream, others sporting graffiti, gave evidence of the recent heavy winds. Leaves floated in the rippling water until coming to rest at a log dam; beneath my feet acorns nestled among exposed sylvan roots. The red and yellow notches in the various posts along the way signified the length one could choose to walk, red for one mile and a half, yellow for one mile. It is only when you near the one mile bridge that the path offers a glimpse of the water reflecting the surrounding woodland. When I first took this walk at the beginning of the year I didn’t have the energy to approach the stream for pictures such as these. Today this seemed not far enough just to turn round and retrace my steps.

I therefore decided to take a chance on the path across the bridge at one mile linking up with another path leading from Puttles Bridge.

It didn’t. It took me up a slope offering silhouettes of walkers and ponies. and leading to a closed visitor centre.

Looking back at the tree line tracking Ober Water I set off across the tufted, often soggy, terrain, avoiding heaps of pony droppings, trying neither to trip over clumpy shrubbery nor sink into boggy bits, and eventually finding the location of the Puttles Bridge area.

Feeling on my last legs this is what I met.

I then had to scramble my way across to the road and take the long way back to the Modus. By the time I had reached the entrance to the car park I was so obviously knackered that it was necessary to persuade a party of four leaving the car park that I did not need them to turn round and drive me the last fifty yards or so. The trek had lasted 70 minutes.

This evening we enjoyed a dinner of Jackie’s most flavoursome sausage casserole; creamy mashed potato; tender runner beans; crunchy carrots and firm broccoli, with which I drank more of the Cotes du Rhone and Jackie didn’t.

91 comments

  1. Definitely an unforeseen extra long walk Derrick, and yes If I walk more than half an hour, I’m heading into that tiring uncomfortable zone.. !!

      1. Derrick, do you keep a cell phone with you when you are walking? I find I am comforted – when I am miles away from anyone, to have my phone so I can call if need be.

        1. I do, Jodie. However reception in the forest is dicey. That is a good, concerned, question. As I made my way over that open ground I was aware that if I tripped and fell I would not be able to get up.

  2. I love reflection shots, and these are magnificent — some reflecting even things one cannot see the antecedent for, and some beautifully clear! I’m glad to see your stamina increasing, even if not as much as this trek required!

  3. I am glad you have made progress on your walking distances, Derrick, but I hope you won’t overdo it in the future. The silhouettes are fantastic, as are the reflection shots.

  4. Quite a walk! I’m glad you made it back to the car.
    I love the reflections. They’re very beautiful, but the silhouette shots are also very cool, too. And the landscape photo on the bottom left with the golden fields and cloudscape.

  5. There’s the two shots of the lit up tree line — a lady wears a green sweatshirt around her waist–that spoke to me. Walks are grand–contratulations for going further than you thought possible!

  6. I love the light prism so appropriate.
    Marvelous autumn photographs and what a trek you undertook, I’m not surprised you were on your last legs- so to speak!
    I thoroughly overdid a recent walk and my hip is still suffering.

  7. That section of land you crossed before reaching the bridge is beautiful: muted colors, and such variety. I’m glad you were able to make such fine progress, although I have had ‘those’ days myself. You know: the walks when you suddenly reach the point where you realize going back would be as difficult as going forward, so you might as well go on!

      1. Oh, my. I have a deeper appreciation for that post than you might imagine, having been introduced to the existence of stinging nettle by accidentally sitting on one. The rowing story caught me in another way. Surely you followed the journeys of Roz Savage, another long distance rower. I wrote about her some years ago, and I may dust that old post off and put it up again.

  8. I am glad to see that the spirit of adventure is alive and kicking….well alive at any rate. I enjoyed the thought of the kind people feeling that you needed to be rescued. Some more lovely pictures today.

      1. That thought is often in the back of my mind but dog owners don’t seem to like their dogs getting kicked even when they are bothering people with tin knees.

  9. Seems there is always something popping up to throw a monkey wrench into the “best laid plans”. Glad you were able to successfully end the longer than planned walk. Once again you have blessed us with very nice to view images of your countryside.

  10. I’m very glad you made it back to the car okay and that there were people there to help just in case. The acorns and root photo was intriguing, like a puzzle. The large fallen tree next to the Ober water looked like a beach creature making a home for other smaller ones. The prism reminds me that I saw many of these “rainbows” shortly after my father died. They were comforting. I hope you have a peaceful, relaxing day tomorrow.

  11. You’ve done such good walking and over rough terrain sometimes. It’s good you had such a lovely dinner (and such beautiful views in the interim). I always think of Pauline when my wall is scattered with little rainbow comets. It’s nice to know they’re so many places

  12. indeed, the prism is a lovely reminder. glad that you had that extra walk, Derrick! that is wonderful! great photos as always especially the silhouettes. the autumnal landscape is gorgeous! 🙂

  13. What an engrossing walk through the woods! The landscape shots and the silhouetted monochrome photographs are a class apart. The trekking journey to the bridge was alarmingly dicey but, quite like you, I wasn’t ready for the surprise.

    1. Thanks very much, Uma. Yes it turned out more than I had bargained for. Jackie said she had watched couples driving in, walking to the bridge, turning round, and driving off. She had wondered why.

  14. You certainly earned your Cotes du Rhone! How long was that walk? I loved, especially, the first part of it. You got some great water/tree shots. What did Jackie do while you were walking?

    1. Thanks very much, Judy. Probably about three miles, the second half over rough ground. Pre-knee surgery I would have done that and much more, so I am optimistic for the future. Jackie does crossword puzzles and listens to the radio.

  15. Good on that walking, Derrick! Hope you and your knees got a great rest afterwards.
    What lovely photos that show us that nature has been busy…never a dull moment.
    Really love the leaves “dancing” on the water photos! AND your B&W photos and silhouette photos, too!
    (((HUGS))) 🙂
    PS…the indoor rainbow is so beautiful and comforting! Pauline comes to visit for awhile. 🙂

  16. I used to walk everywhere, but now I can’t recall the last time walked for over an hour – sad. It gave you a great array of photo though.

  17. The lightcatcher we have from Pauline is in our bedroom but I think I’ll move it to my desk where it can shoot rainbows around the room. Love that word “knackered” but sorry the bridge was closed after all that effort! Goodness for Jackie’s evening meal – and wine.

  18. That is a beautiful remembrance of Pauline, Derrick and Jackie. It is sad when good friends leave one so soon.
    I loved the photos from your walk, and the black & white ones provide an additional feel and mood.
    We had a little rain here in the wee morning hours, and it is working its way to partly cloudy. It will be a good day for me to change the oil on the car.

  19. Jezus! Nu even rustig an … , ooh-oh … Nee, dat luistert voor géén meter … Ik gaat naar 17 oktober, loopttie weer helemaal naar Schotland en weer terug … Géén land mee te bezeilen: Hij lijkt me man wel en altijd eigenwijs, hè … Gelukkig, is alles goed gegaan. * http://www.friedabblog.wordpress.com * Amsterdam, 18 oktober 2020, 17.35 uur …

  20. I’m sorry you were diverted, although your recounting of it is, as ever, very diverting. You reminded me of a couple I met after the Tatton Park Flower Show in the car park. The car parks seem to be miles from the show. They had lost their car and looked on their last legs, but turned down my offer to drive them around till they found it. I would have felt much better if they’d have accepted!

  21. Oh my! Fancy finding that bridge closed after all your efforts. I am glad you made it back even though with difficulty. The shots you took were worth it though. The black and white ones of the forest are particularly striking!

  22. Lovely pictures and I can feel your exhaustion–one of the many unwelcome consequences of getting old while still trying to remain active. A few years ago, I was volunteering at Cabrillo National Monument and had been standing for most of two hours. I gratefully accepted a ride down the hill from the lighthouse to my car and was chagrined to realize how fatigued I was when it was a downhill ride that I was relishing. Used to just be up hills.

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