The world
underfoot has turned blue with a certain perfume in the air - at least it has
in the woods surrounding The Vyne NT.
Normally I can forage where I like but, in there, you need to be led and
you also need to be careful where you park your backside in case you crush any
of these smelly flowers. There is a sign
up saying leave any babies where they are as their parents will come back to
collect them in their own time. I was
seriously worried we would find wailing miniatures in the undergrowth but upon
hearing a few hoots and a fluttering I realised they must mean the resident
owls. The only miniatures we saw were
little black lambs being staunchly protected by their rather scary horn headed
mothers. The Mrs strolls slowly around
clicking a small contraption which captures images which she will eventually
replicate using the most difficult method she can involving pigment and water –
she calls it painting, I call it boring.
I kept trying to position myself so that I could present my good side in
all of the photos in the hope I would appear in watercolour one of these days
but she seems more interested in these smelly flowers at the moment. After bounding around for a few hours I
decided I needed to cool down in the conveniently flowing nearby stream. After some altercation with the Mrs it
turned out she seemed much happier with this than she was with the muddy
puddles of last month and thankfully I didn’t have to put up with that
embarrassing bath routine when we returned home. By the way you may be interested to learn
that the dictionary I swallowed last month has now been completely digested and
my language has returned to barking simplicity….
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