On the first bank holiday weekend of the holiday season in the New Forest there was much traffic on Holmsley Passage this morning: this took the form of
walkers, cars, and cyclists risking twisted ankles while negotiating potholes;
and a pony and trap I tracked approaching down the hill,
exchanging friendly greetings as they passed and travelled on to glide by a string of yellow-clad children on bikes.
A pair of horse riders clopping behind our parked Modus chose to diverge into the moorland rather than to confront either the small equines in harness or the vehicles following them.
Sensing that today would be hot, ponies on the moorland approaching Burley were already attracting visitors, with or without cameras, as they clustered together for their seasonal mutual protection.
Later, I finished reading the first volume of Dostoevsky’s “A Raw Youth”, then converted the following post from Classic to Block edit, changing its category to Garden:
For dinner this evening we all enjoyed succulent roast lamb; roasted potatoes, including the sweet variety; crunchy carrots; firm Brussels sprouts and broccoli; and meaty gravy, with which I drank more of the Côtes du Rhône and Jackie drank more of the Viognier.