After lunch today Jackie and I drove to Helen and Bill’s home in Fordingbridge to deliver my sister-in-law’s birthday present. They were not home so we emulated an on-line-shopping courier and left it wrapped up in the porch.
Such is the difference between country and city dwelling that the soldiers left guarding the premises opposite have stood unmolested for months now.
Jackie photographed me photographing them and a coloured one for herself.
I converted mine to black and white.
Periodically our journey was punctuated by cawing crescendos from a plethora of raucous rookeries, like this one around the corner, where canoodling couples indulged in nest-building frenzies.
Smaller songbirds’ sweeter symphonic trilling offered a pleasant alternative in the woodland of Hale Purlieu where still shaggy ponies in their winter wear cropped the grass.
I wandered past the ponies and looked down on the woodland hill slopes before retracing my steps.
Suddenly barking, a yelp, and cries of “leave”, shattered the peace as a pack of humans, let off the leash by their assorted canines, trailed from the trees to their waiting cars.
Foaming water roared from the mill race, entering the fast flowing, lapping, tinkling, rippling, varicoloured surface of the River Avon via the Woodgreen bridge.
Such was the variety of sounds stirring this early spring day.
This evening we dined on Red Chilli’s excellent Indian takeaway with which I finished the Syrah.