Tag: Pound Lane

Honey Lane Deer

This morning we paid a visit to Ferndene Farm Shop, purchased three bags of compost, eggs, and salad items, then continued on a forest drive.

We turned off Pound Lane on the approach to Burley, where

Jackie parked beside the entrance to Honey Lane in order for me to test my knees on uncompromising terrain.

The height of the banks on the sides of this ancient path is indicative of its age.

The hooves of these work horses in an adjacent field were at my eye level.

As I set off down the lane I glimpsed what looked like a herd of deer dashing across in the distance. Realising that if I could reach the level of the fields I might be able to get a bead on them from a rusting five barred gate, I had a choice to make.

I could walk back to the Modus, situated where the smooth slope led to the gate, or I could climb up the root entangled rough incline. Regular readers will know which option I took. Surprisingly, I made it.

I was rewarded with a sight of the milling herd.

Now, if I made my way further along might I discover a different angle? How was I to do this?

Fortunately ponies had forged an albeit precarious track down the knobbly bank. Striving to avoid brambles and holly, I stumbled along it.

This gave me my different viewpoint. Until a snorting clopping from behind alerted both me and the now scarpering cervine crew to the approach of

two friendly equestriennes with whom I enjoyed a pleasant conversation gleaning the information that the deer were regular daily visitors who were quite problematic when they returned in darkness.

This afternoon Jackie continued planting and weeding the garden. My minimal contribution was trimming the lawn edges and carting some refuse to the compost bins, until I was relieved by a most welcome visit from Shelly and Ron enabling us to catch up for Covid time.

This evening we dined on succulent roast duck with crispy skin, boiled potatoes, crisp Yorkshire pudding, crunchy carrots, tender cabbage and runner beans, with tasty gravy. Jackie drank Hoegaarden, and I drank more of the Malbec.

The Evolution Of A Room

Today was hot enough for us to open doors and windows.

One of these was the stable door. It is my fond imagining that a horse was once kept in what became the garage, which we converted to

a utility room leading to a library, fronted by

a boarded trellis bearing clematises, solanum, nasturtiums, petunias, geraniums, etc.

I do hope this accurately describes the evolution of a room.

A few days ago I had taken my copy of J.L. Carr’s short novel, ‘A Month in the Country’ from my library, and I finished reading it this afternoon. Winner of the Guardian Fiction Prize for 1980, the book is a many faceted gem. Two men are linked by the fact of having survived Passchendaele and each having accepted commissions to uncover secrets of a medieval church. I will try not to reveal too much, but can say that in economical, well-placed, prose encompassing just 121 pages of my Folio Society copy of 1999 the author speaks of heaven and hell; of judgement, redemption, and damnation; of joy and pain; of culture and spirituality; of time and eternity; all with a slowly seething undercurrent of suppressed sexuality. It wasn’t heterosexual love to which Lord Alfred Douglas referred as ‘the love that dare not speak its name’, yet there are other reasons for fear of revealing feelings.

Ronald Blythe’s perceptive and informative introduction reflects the author’s style.

Ian Stephen’s detailed illustrations are true to the text.

The front and back boards are each printed with a copy of the artist’s engraving for the frontispiece.

Here are the rest.

Early this evening we took a brief trip into the forest.

From Pound Lane near Thorney Hill we watched ponies paddling in Whitten Pond, alongside which a young woman played ball with a pair of dogs.

On our return we dined on a second helping of Mr Chan’s excellent Chinese Take Away with which we both drank Tsing Tao beer.