Walking was something Eamonn and I really enjoyed doing together., especially on the beach where beach-combing alternated with discussions setting the world to rights - until Eamonn could not manage beach walking and found country walking taxing as he struggled to keep up with me and Alf. Walking alone is not the same and I miss both the company and the conversations. But sometimes a new discovery leads to a new experience.
The rules of social distancing and working from home have led to the local footpaths and bridleways becoming quite crowded. The farmers have done their best, creating wide set-asides to make social distancing easier. But, with the new paths come new rules. It is no longer possible to allow Alf off-lead on some paths. As Alf can become reactive when meeting other dogs on-lead, I decided to take a little-known route through the local nature reserve.
Purwell Ninesprings (There are nine chalk-land springs in the area) is maintained and managed with the help of volunteers. When it first opened its gates to visitors, there was not very much to explore because of the lack of a track through it.
I took Alf through the gate expecting about 100 metres of cleared woodland before we would have to turn back. I was wrong.
With Alf on a long lead, we had the trail to ourselves until it reached an exit gate almost 1km further on.
The entrance is close to the wetlands, home to a great variety of flora and fauna. The raptor population has grown thanks to the careful husbandry of the Trust. It was an overcast day and I didn't expect to see many butterflies, but my first find was this speckled wood butterfly that landed on some bramble leaves and patiently waited with wings outstretched until I could get close enough to get a reasonable photo.
The only available leaflet, doesn't mention this inner track. I may be one of the few people to have discovered it if the conversations I had on the return route via Gypsy Lane are anything to go by. It is summer, and so far, the track is passable and not too badly overgrown with brambles and trees. I think most people are aware of the more open track, overlooking the open water at the top end of Kingswood Avenue. Alf thought we were taking that track as it skirts the playing fields alongside the single bar fence, that we have walked many times.
The next hour was spent discovering things I never knew about this sanctuary on my doorstep. Ever-changing vistas, from the narrow track overhung by trees and shrubs,
to views across the chalk wetlands with bronze tinged reeds swaying in hollows hidden from view.
There was so much to explore, with eyes, and ears, and nose, that Alf was content to stay on a long-lead and didn't once attempt a mad dash. He stayed on the track as if he knew he would not be welcome trampling around the unmarked areas.
As we walked, Alf sampled the vegetation. He's a great forager and has always enjoyed a fresh piece of dew-soaked greenery or fresh berries. I used to worry that he would eat something poisonous, but, so far, all is well - apart from the time I caught him helping himself to potting compost from the open bag. He was pooping fibrous strands of bark for days afterwards.
I was in the dark about where, or if, the path would end. There was evidence of clearance and management of the woodland, with the odd, unexpected splash of beauty lighting up the verge.
The track curved away from Gypsy lane, then back towards it again, and I began to wonder if it would skirt Coots Corner, or end long before it reached the Wymondley Road. There were more discoveries to be made, but that story is for the next journal entry.
The rules of social distancing and working from home have led to the local footpaths and bridleways becoming quite crowded. The farmers have done their best, creating wide set-asides to make social distancing easier. But, with the new paths come new rules. It is no longer possible to allow Alf off-lead on some paths. As Alf can become reactive when meeting other dogs on-lead, I decided to take a little-known route through the local nature reserve.
Purwell Ninesprings (There are nine chalk-land springs in the area) is maintained and managed with the help of volunteers. When it first opened its gates to visitors, there was not very much to explore because of the lack of a track through it.
I took Alf through the gate expecting about 100 metres of cleared woodland before we would have to turn back. I was wrong.
With Alf on a long lead, we had the trail to ourselves until it reached an exit gate almost 1km further on.
The entrance is close to the wetlands, home to a great variety of flora and fauna. The raptor population has grown thanks to the careful husbandry of the Trust. It was an overcast day and I didn't expect to see many butterflies, but my first find was this speckled wood butterfly that landed on some bramble leaves and patiently waited with wings outstretched until I could get close enough to get a reasonable photo.
The only available leaflet, doesn't mention this inner track. I may be one of the few people to have discovered it if the conversations I had on the return route via Gypsy Lane are anything to go by. It is summer, and so far, the track is passable and not too badly overgrown with brambles and trees. I think most people are aware of the more open track, overlooking the open water at the top end of Kingswood Avenue. Alf thought we were taking that track as it skirts the playing fields alongside the single bar fence, that we have walked many times.
The next hour was spent discovering things I never knew about this sanctuary on my doorstep. Ever-changing vistas, from the narrow track overhung by trees and shrubs,
to views across the chalk wetlands with bronze tinged reeds swaying in hollows hidden from view.
There was so much to explore, with eyes, and ears, and nose, that Alf was content to stay on a long-lead and didn't once attempt a mad dash. He stayed on the track as if he knew he would not be welcome trampling around the unmarked areas.
As we walked, Alf sampled the vegetation. He's a great forager and has always enjoyed a fresh piece of dew-soaked greenery or fresh berries. I used to worry that he would eat something poisonous, but, so far, all is well - apart from the time I caught him helping himself to potting compost from the open bag. He was pooping fibrous strands of bark for days afterwards.
I was in the dark about where, or if, the path would end. There was evidence of clearance and management of the woodland, with the odd, unexpected splash of beauty lighting up the verge.
The track curved away from Gypsy lane, then back towards it again, and I began to wonder if it would skirt Coots Corner, or end long before it reached the Wymondley Road. There were more discoveries to be made, but that story is for the next journal entry.
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