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Today was another dull one with little sun after 10 a.m. This morning we took a motorised stroll through the forest
and brunched at Hyde-Out Café where I enjoyed a tastefully presented full English.
Just outside Bashley the first bunch of cyclists began disrupting the traffic.
Someone had recently lobbed food packaging into the stream crossing Holmsley Passage, along which we passed the resident of
the modern house that was once the site of the crossing keeper’s cottage.
At Burley ponies had been engaged to mow the outfield of the cricket green.
Some took a break,
and, for one, the task had become all too exhausting.
It being the grockle season, only the narrower lanes like Braggers were free of cyclists and other cars designed to send drivers onto the verges.
More common were crocodiles like these escorted children wobbling along
opposite the irises blooming in Whitemoor Pond.
Mauve foxgloves stood proudly erect all over the forest.
On the slopes on other side of the road leading into Bolderwood, where the first two of these pictures were taken, wild orchids clustered among the curling ferns.
Someone had lobbed a bottle into this lovely landscape.
Logging had been carried out in the vicinity of this stump with its moss-covered exposed roots.
The A31, that bisected the forest into North and South, spans the road through Bolderwood, bringing the modern world into stark contrast with the historic home of this equine family whose ancestors grazed the forest floors for centuries.
One of two riders crossing the heath on the other side of the main thoroughfare gave me a pleasant smile, after which we exchanged waves.
For our dinner this evening Jackie produced tasty chicken thighs marinaded in lemon and herbs and roasted with peppers; boiled potatoes, carrots, and green beans.