tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-50964020028481600902024-03-06T16:43:40.788+00:00WealdwifeWith my fingerly hands with ten fingers, I, the wealdwife, type.Sian Thomashttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14777626768711738619noreply@blogger.comBlogger223125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5096402002848160090.post-13994031224385162592024-03-05T15:55:00.010+00:002024-03-06T16:43:08.825+00:00To Town Row <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHCC8p_uWQ9FG-v_QY7SbH527RAhXCQVksOdjAFbyVU7nM0d8pzFsSvVXrmu99LirHzFTyXb-_Oxy15gr4ueOEapobTmlCl4dzsOTHHbiMPDKty5Ad4cUaQyIxHBp9esh33C0KFl5-8cppL_pP8vsPFPxa1YN8RqS_ZoZ88Xky5dnPfopMIVWxCgutmtlo/s4032/unnamed-4.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHCC8p_uWQ9FG-v_QY7SbH527RAhXCQVksOdjAFbyVU7nM0d8pzFsSvVXrmu99LirHzFTyXb-_Oxy15gr4ueOEapobTmlCl4dzsOTHHbiMPDKty5Ad4cUaQyIxHBp9esh33C0KFl5-8cppL_pP8vsPFPxa1YN8RqS_ZoZ88Xky5dnPfopMIVWxCgutmtlo/s320/unnamed-4.jpg" width="240" /></a></div><br /><p>There's something quietly exciting about walking to another community. I first discovered the joy of it when I was in my twenties, after moving back into my family home in Sussex. Our twenties are often difficult and mine were frequently painful and bewildering, and I started walking as an instinctive way of dealing with depression. One day I walked to Horstead Keynes, about four miles from my home in Sharpthorne. I was amazed by how easily I could get there just by galumphing along. I couldn't drive at the time and it was lovely to know I could reach a neighbouring village without having to rely on my dad or a complicated series of buses. At that time there were only one or two village shops and a couple of pubs in Horsted Keynes, there probably still are, but my being able to reach the place under my own steam gave me a sense of autonomy and pride that I badly needed. </p><p>Now, thank heavens, I can drive and am on the whole quite a happy beast, but my early love of reaching a neighbouring community on foot still remains, and so on a drizzly morning at the beginning of last month I set off for Rotherfield. </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjBD3iw0Kwl4SiURS_ZsjcY-osF9yNASz1d4GaxUGLPZJqhei0Xf_INXMfIw0KR5ymHX07E9JR40ac-z1K5x7cgJ0tlYFe6lXpNp6wR1ZqV6P4a26l1VGSjYfI9mPD-gJX1eA6pKy4dkqNjVcY7uH1Y9R6yroYlqAHWdgBUfGC_2G05Ce5lZp6uDvt042pQ/s4032/IMG_7069.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjBD3iw0Kwl4SiURS_ZsjcY-osF9yNASz1d4GaxUGLPZJqhei0Xf_INXMfIw0KR5ymHX07E9JR40ac-z1K5x7cgJ0tlYFe6lXpNp6wR1ZqV6P4a26l1VGSjYfI9mPD-gJX1eA6pKy4dkqNjVcY7uH1Y9R6yroYlqAHWdgBUfGC_2G05Ce5lZp6uDvt042pQ/s320/IMG_7069.jpg" width="240" /></a></div><div><br /></div>This is my lane. You can see how misty it was. Last month was the wettest February on record. The lane is lined on either side with ditches and last month I kept think of the old saying, 'February fill dyke,' which I've just discovered comes from a traditional rhyme: <div><br /></div><div><span> February fill the dyke,</span></div><div><span> Be it black or be it white; </span></div><div><span> But if it be white,</span></div><div><span> It's the better to like. </span></div><div><br /></div><div>Our February was mostly grey: skies, mist, drizzle, downpour, but it was beautiful in its own raw and rainy way. <br /><div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1ik1Ss1PA2Dlo7-FeCfZlRCivPENnRfFJFKrzPQzrYRaMdcqKmBod2ge1roSrD8mCgF6ZoLJlIBIctgCBVNNzOqF-dBun4FrVmXCmqHiUjNLT_q77G4gwy4gP7onLyYa7QshqFItZrndosklknQhfa2igFW91aQpHzjrBV6xoMu1BUWqaSKzhPYIx0koM/s4032/IMG_7070.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1ik1Ss1PA2Dlo7-FeCfZlRCivPENnRfFJFKrzPQzrYRaMdcqKmBod2ge1roSrD8mCgF6ZoLJlIBIctgCBVNNzOqF-dBun4FrVmXCmqHiUjNLT_q77G4gwy4gP7onLyYa7QshqFItZrndosklknQhfa2igFW91aQpHzjrBV6xoMu1BUWqaSKzhPYIx0koM/s320/IMG_7070.jpg" width="240" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; 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text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPDAWC8e38tPb46tOXtvGhBd4ggynDL4mKMxvPONnFvL9OAHHczPSLAAyxnYS4j6dUKsoPG4EIIqiEfYq5HGVuXc6xXW7zcuaFj-Ca9AXqL8cFdtPS2Zx8GgyfWH9w9haw_zWTrTqEAInWW0KQ_Y_3b9Eb6D-GnriVGEqNjGC0b-Um5YMFtNljUdgD7Fpx/s4032/IMG_7073.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPDAWC8e38tPb46tOXtvGhBd4ggynDL4mKMxvPONnFvL9OAHHczPSLAAyxnYS4j6dUKsoPG4EIIqiEfYq5HGVuXc6xXW7zcuaFj-Ca9AXqL8cFdtPS2Zx8GgyfWH9w9haw_zWTrTqEAInWW0KQ_Y_3b9Eb6D-GnriVGEqNjGC0b-Um5YMFtNljUdgD7Fpx/s320/IMG_7073.jpg" width="240" /></a></div><div><br /></div><div> <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjiDhHv_-9bHGJtUQBO1gS_nwBob6uymXs5f5a2BxHLthB3ZwtnDiC8k6FZ8LIOyEPAFZaMwzzKrK9JHqoudV__tYi8VtMy54DimoXYIW3Y_PSt4SXfXN90DTjOQ9qUsEfrNtVfE6GT4hn4VQS6yGkAuqv33NT5ooPBL7KrNkcx4CaiqKcszuuk54SoVys1/s4032/IMG_7082.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjiDhHv_-9bHGJtUQBO1gS_nwBob6uymXs5f5a2BxHLthB3ZwtnDiC8k6FZ8LIOyEPAFZaMwzzKrK9JHqoudV__tYi8VtMy54DimoXYIW3Y_PSt4SXfXN90DTjOQ9qUsEfrNtVfE6GT4hn4VQS6yGkAuqv33NT5ooPBL7KrNkcx4CaiqKcszuuk54SoVys1/s320/IMG_7082.jpg" width="240" /></a> </div><div> </div><div> <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZysHjsb4pL6Mv1I20FjFXf25GrDNOUTujWzDhpIO-XqnAEu-vmjnerm88jUKFxkH2yGERMrCipatmB9rkc2bR56Q_UCzKIB9iHsN3dpE2W9uYkbBNHQC4s10umbxC5T_lKbh2fEcCy-hsl8ugNA0XhqlDArSQiH-PXKJPvZgyPZHs-uX_Q_9I4bus5Bpm/s4032/IMG_7074.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZysHjsb4pL6Mv1I20FjFXf25GrDNOUTujWzDhpIO-XqnAEu-vmjnerm88jUKFxkH2yGERMrCipatmB9rkc2bR56Q_UCzKIB9iHsN3dpE2W9uYkbBNHQC4s10umbxC5T_lKbh2fEcCy-hsl8ugNA0XhqlDArSQiH-PXKJPvZgyPZHs-uX_Q_9I4bus5Bpm/s320/IMG_7074.jpg" width="240" /></a></div><div><br /></div><div>On the ground though spring was nudging up through last year's brown stems. The greens were sap-bright. </div></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEglJ1xAu6YoKWMVA6p_jRZxic9Axuxo6BCfeCE0aJIzs215LE5zbltHT0QiTkISxvoY0quK_DtL-a9W5u6vD175YF3sjaQJq40GwJmMfOZu9MMdiy9FziVDgHJul-OGaG82l0H_iqbnYx0fyco-WQCjaTsnJy8uYVsWlh9NSajGpsvTjKQ4NGaNxOGwAYC1/s4032/IMG_7077.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEglJ1xAu6YoKWMVA6p_jRZxic9Axuxo6BCfeCE0aJIzs215LE5zbltHT0QiTkISxvoY0quK_DtL-a9W5u6vD175YF3sjaQJq40GwJmMfOZu9MMdiy9FziVDgHJul-OGaG82l0H_iqbnYx0fyco-WQCjaTsnJy8uYVsWlh9NSajGpsvTjKQ4NGaNxOGwAYC1/s320/IMG_7077.jpg" width="240" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEif3kLD_jxCfW4PbPxwjltyvEzTCqmeN0LhRoYawF2CyzzNveIkx9hglp5PWeW-ciHsdHPKEeH89FfOhXxqoSKMY7-oNENu0-R-WX7xBk7Egdsgl1teaYhphiRWkcdLLmR-bH3bpFVd-bCLG4MfAT54mccx57Ldce5PcMI74h7lwfch7DIhtu15-u0SUaSE/s4032/IMG_7079.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEif3kLD_jxCfW4PbPxwjltyvEzTCqmeN0LhRoYawF2CyzzNveIkx9hglp5PWeW-ciHsdHPKEeH89FfOhXxqoSKMY7-oNENu0-R-WX7xBk7Egdsgl1teaYhphiRWkcdLLmR-bH3bpFVd-bCLG4MfAT54mccx57Ldce5PcMI74h7lwfch7DIhtu15-u0SUaSE/s320/IMG_7079.jpg" width="240" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwQAgrhFk1MhCmThElM_TjIdXllGOu8X8q5SmxS97F_GBGzIRKuPDYD7pyhpl-wQQNpiVCG2MqJLjES7Ne1ddWj8Y-QKcrC6bvJzAua-abXc9eKEeiVnecjZEmt72EWqNRLwjI0rd31K96zH3ZLI3Ub1XWGfNtBHZI2a5aoqdi8bFas2LQ4jQCYwg0c-H1/s4032/IMG_7085.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwQAgrhFk1MhCmThElM_TjIdXllGOu8X8q5SmxS97F_GBGzIRKuPDYD7pyhpl-wQQNpiVCG2MqJLjES7Ne1ddWj8Y-QKcrC6bvJzAua-abXc9eKEeiVnecjZEmt72EWqNRLwjI0rd31K96zH3ZLI3Ub1XWGfNtBHZI2a5aoqdi8bFas2LQ4jQCYwg0c-H1/s320/IMG_7085.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div><br /></div><div>I squelched through a couple of fields before trundling along Horleigh Green Road. It's a busy backroad, I had to squeeze myself into the verge to keep away from scudding lorries and cars. </div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjIA6C1yPMEO2LyZqV6ffxx-w8y1M4A3o1qUKRG8Wp6O314lkiUGTO6qI6Uu2pEmlVwU0O9lUneXveK2U1zj6yCcbCHNdXXLuOhi72Dytlfxh58yPBgEKRvsFVj88NxmBhqAnWGESlJecIz8HhiAmt28sG4EMrR6ab7ibTU6Ga1h7WZWSdul24cTYyKbw4h/s4032/IMG_7086.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjIA6C1yPMEO2LyZqV6ffxx-w8y1M4A3o1qUKRG8Wp6O314lkiUGTO6qI6Uu2pEmlVwU0O9lUneXveK2U1zj6yCcbCHNdXXLuOhi72Dytlfxh58yPBgEKRvsFVj88NxmBhqAnWGESlJecIz8HhiAmt28sG4EMrR6ab7ibTU6Ga1h7WZWSdul24cTYyKbw4h/s320/IMG_7086.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiw3SCoqVzE-h62c4NObWAzllkF9gk1AWx8IB5u88W5M2_8NNpLKM1zX801SOh3wwBRY5S6ALZRfk0b6ns_DPtOw-NeVw55clwxh4Z7TQpVAsnUxbeq93eL0aQjNsFoDJ7Dk4X2zIvKBEaIu-MdMGkAi_1W9jViz-R8JE0kF_04uyIs1A2vXwdsYSZJ6xoz/s4032/IMG_7088.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiw3SCoqVzE-h62c4NObWAzllkF9gk1AWx8IB5u88W5M2_8NNpLKM1zX801SOh3wwBRY5S6ALZRfk0b6ns_DPtOw-NeVw55clwxh4Z7TQpVAsnUxbeq93eL0aQjNsFoDJ7Dk4X2zIvKBEaIu-MdMGkAi_1W9jViz-R8JE0kF_04uyIs1A2vXwdsYSZJ6xoz/s320/IMG_7088.jpg" width="240" /></a></div><div><br /></div><div>Then I escaped the modern world again and took the old byway to Bicycle Arms Road. The track leads down into a valley where it fords a tributary of the Rother. </div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgiFxvL2jQQqyfP95jb1lM0FxLs6cmly63vk-Z7ZYgHI9dADCVGuilIOJL5E6f3UKjobHKZOmguTvPQiWYujIs6d4lONj-KIng2KcTrexaOop2fuWjHKMBxjhSFWxik09iS0-imNuiZq5qNjvmaRODPYyR55KbAdHIBCo5GJH-Fe8OYjdgu8udY3CpM0Jnx/s4032/IMG_7090-2.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgiFxvL2jQQqyfP95jb1lM0FxLs6cmly63vk-Z7ZYgHI9dADCVGuilIOJL5E6f3UKjobHKZOmguTvPQiWYujIs6d4lONj-KIng2KcTrexaOop2fuWjHKMBxjhSFWxik09iS0-imNuiZq5qNjvmaRODPYyR55KbAdHIBCo5GJH-Fe8OYjdgu8udY3CpM0Jnx/s320/IMG_7090-2.jpg" width="240" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjV9DhJ4J-Ob3Z9VvW0XsCBCwNaDP9Ps_UfnowrVhmthGXl-KcMtEbxJqiZwh051bCSyVFT8MNAtQoYIGFJNNHvM3FfHxQ13Z5XUM1fOJMQdVS8gmwvbZz2ersESFzYuRclclHhx4p7Q3l7NlgwgWnwAo6PCNN2TzHbDZP5KPF0nbYFmazishglOc_eE_Da/s4032/IMG_7092.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjV9DhJ4J-Ob3Z9VvW0XsCBCwNaDP9Ps_UfnowrVhmthGXl-KcMtEbxJqiZwh051bCSyVFT8MNAtQoYIGFJNNHvM3FfHxQ13Z5XUM1fOJMQdVS8gmwvbZz2ersESFzYuRclclHhx4p7Q3l7NlgwgWnwAo6PCNN2TzHbDZP5KPF0nbYFmazishglOc_eE_Da/s320/IMG_7092.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div><br /></div>Rain began to fall in earnest and the stream's clay banks were stamped with human bootprints and the prints of deer and dogs. </div><div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjpEkk71y0pvf5_8PSSkhcAQSMhGHx-1SkWuPhA9E8sO_d5RcDc9RpCEhtJ9Bh7OEigTc4LjRHL_WdcEH5OyQuYkAw-58sw0mHOht6OHx9t15iXdBC4zxwnIhI9cHLDD6FiTi9lt4kEKZmsNPTROa2mMMf38s8lSkFP2D5vRdP18Oy-XRMdSUjys7r4ktan/s4032/IMG_7094.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjpEkk71y0pvf5_8PSSkhcAQSMhGHx-1SkWuPhA9E8sO_d5RcDc9RpCEhtJ9Bh7OEigTc4LjRHL_WdcEH5OyQuYkAw-58sw0mHOht6OHx9t15iXdBC4zxwnIhI9cHLDD6FiTi9lt4kEKZmsNPTROa2mMMf38s8lSkFP2D5vRdP18Oy-XRMdSUjys7r4ktan/s320/IMG_7094.jpg" width="240" /></a></div><div><br /></div>As I walked I noticed human signs everywhere, the fences, hedges and notices, the way we keep talking to one another even when we're not there. </div><div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6A8kgjZn8vbSrjoCqmBoxCbWhJMV-Ak1o_xLMbPYRPwi6zF1ufZHi9LF38flyqGnaewHhlVMSh0peAyck720DMhLose5W-LLF9Ws6u_Kq95qJacLUxk_hBr6HNRz6O9C97Zj08TsytmptMS9EKg0evDkbl7vvzLh-lxic1V4Nnno44fH5_A0Ifs-FdOB8/s4032/IMG_7096.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6A8kgjZn8vbSrjoCqmBoxCbWhJMV-Ak1o_xLMbPYRPwi6zF1ufZHi9LF38flyqGnaewHhlVMSh0peAyck720DMhLose5W-LLF9Ws6u_Kq95qJacLUxk_hBr6HNRz6O9C97Zj08TsytmptMS9EKg0evDkbl7vvzLh-lxic1V4Nnno44fH5_A0Ifs-FdOB8/s320/IMG_7096.jpg" width="240" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7ViKlnmUvcHMm3HLGMl2Ka8Cid6v0sk7iAg_CciHqZ1krwEI9KTTP4RUXSLUonX81RIBjkM1zSQtRyOFr_QrnWv8dEbjV1e55aSHUZRC0aYVhq9Iw0zXMygHX3VtH0oDmtVv-boJplQmxaYveCwQNXykr3l-zBZysCM8TxS7doNllObVzTI1dUfrmAVsS/s4032/IMG_7098.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7ViKlnmUvcHMm3HLGMl2Ka8Cid6v0sk7iAg_CciHqZ1krwEI9KTTP4RUXSLUonX81RIBjkM1zSQtRyOFr_QrnWv8dEbjV1e55aSHUZRC0aYVhq9Iw0zXMygHX3VtH0oDmtVv-boJplQmxaYveCwQNXykr3l-zBZysCM8TxS7doNllObVzTI1dUfrmAVsS/s320/IMG_7098.jpg" width="240" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEje9RzTLZcHPH0gU6ncgY1ddZNUXFgFyoIodQSlrjoitfjbmyzuOY-JVRvCVYqDhlfdzo4jHIguit-UoFyg1XWpTpuP8BJZbPb0NBAofonLHoWzSGaexBatDvoYMPozFnJacR2PeneUWYo0c2Z4zQthJH559-sJKCR3NY11hKAzE5vAmfnesXAGskbQFh4i/s4032/IMG_7099.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEje9RzTLZcHPH0gU6ncgY1ddZNUXFgFyoIodQSlrjoitfjbmyzuOY-JVRvCVYqDhlfdzo4jHIguit-UoFyg1XWpTpuP8BJZbPb0NBAofonLHoWzSGaexBatDvoYMPozFnJacR2PeneUWYo0c2Z4zQthJH559-sJKCR3NY11hKAzE5vAmfnesXAGskbQFh4i/s320/IMG_7099.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4-66o6o75OpYF68uNIKbHTmcBtsxj5F2xYj7g94Zhlr7CeZRNB6aA1kHHP67igseGpS6OWFbMGHBU7ZVA1obd0E-x2A4WMtKJ-HW9hlDFUvDpDbGnrbfx95nW7XNMrCUdf9z9kCayZ3o6JiDiMf1fWGLD5JUpF2muPULqGSWUKiTJq_5wKupj6ApFKqMl/s4032/IMG_7101.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4-66o6o75OpYF68uNIKbHTmcBtsxj5F2xYj7g94Zhlr7CeZRNB6aA1kHHP67igseGpS6OWFbMGHBU7ZVA1obd0E-x2A4WMtKJ-HW9hlDFUvDpDbGnrbfx95nW7XNMrCUdf9z9kCayZ3o6JiDiMf1fWGLD5JUpF2muPULqGSWUKiTJq_5wKupj6ApFKqMl/s320/IMG_7101.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZTplrPQYtiKNzIZ65zBX6dVugNQKhqSQMI5S2reqSSVAloKc9l119UhxhiqFM1o3CheZLtRs1sV3aIOoeKcRW9ZYnphod5dg1Zv2-UdVol8pty98HD6SVOApAVg0tg5UEUWYd26UOgUOgGKIeHsjR_mSupxOkCt6Bk-vmJuJtRAFqEz50pWX8kZwLpucv/s4032/IMG_7101.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZTplrPQYtiKNzIZ65zBX6dVugNQKhqSQMI5S2reqSSVAloKc9l119UhxhiqFM1o3CheZLtRs1sV3aIOoeKcRW9ZYnphod5dg1Zv2-UdVol8pty98HD6SVOApAVg0tg5UEUWYd26UOgUOgGKIeHsjR_mSupxOkCt6Bk-vmJuJtRAFqEz50pWX8kZwLpucv/s320/IMG_7101.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjCRF9KrWL7hrEI7PzIXWUgTXKWrcPdHr-1pAN2PoxpJ97e8tr7ZgDYps9BYorWA-TiciPQUjxFyJOa9voIPE-i8O5p_OSXdsuw2v5wSDhm3UG7jizZOt6WBe_joUGWm56bDV77mRZs9bWvhK87CvwSc8bzdef8ai7ls5qydzCypf46K6AbKNi_43yE5Bll/s4032/IMG_7102.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjCRF9KrWL7hrEI7PzIXWUgTXKWrcPdHr-1pAN2PoxpJ97e8tr7ZgDYps9BYorWA-TiciPQUjxFyJOa9voIPE-i8O5p_OSXdsuw2v5wSDhm3UG7jizZOt6WBe_joUGWm56bDV77mRZs9bWvhK87CvwSc8bzdef8ai7ls5qydzCypf46K6AbKNi_43yE5Bll/s320/IMG_7102.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div><br /></div><div>Beside one of the houses, someone had lined the track with snowdrops and daffodils. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiBK89bYS1KE0PzWAg8oGRunAlCg5REc9I8IDFcBPOnNAcyPfelwFtPtcRpV1wu_tjYU-q5CativFAGJBMkPDn8g3Sfrx3rWV9iENfbErYqTxvzzTrb_VkbjRGnKn32KiHv61AyPq4GmmlIFy4x7Ophl01x-ArqTGLzsL1Su_bftnjNbTpnaw5hiR9DR2AM/s4032/IMG_7109.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiBK89bYS1KE0PzWAg8oGRunAlCg5REc9I8IDFcBPOnNAcyPfelwFtPtcRpV1wu_tjYU-q5CativFAGJBMkPDn8g3Sfrx3rWV9iENfbErYqTxvzzTrb_VkbjRGnKn32KiHv61AyPq4GmmlIFy4x7Ophl01x-ArqTGLzsL1Su_bftnjNbTpnaw5hiR9DR2AM/s320/IMG_7109.jpg" width="240" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiS6CzXTpfl_hMoVxTnLlBILXd4263yVZXWZ7QrrxRTbyUXCGX8V4bH_TVh0X0cWvwyEwnNogf-amEFi3Ehoj1d9h1ILAyQVA7SVSueXYNBm0ILlNIpUwa1w0nL4sklm0JXQsTHnDrSWfT8Kb4PzUfoDQOtOPtuO4e0rK0Wy8ajZhPTtMHHNSRm7I2qBfO7/s4032/IMG_7112.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiS6CzXTpfl_hMoVxTnLlBILXd4263yVZXWZ7QrrxRTbyUXCGX8V4bH_TVh0X0cWvwyEwnNogf-amEFi3Ehoj1d9h1ILAyQVA7SVSueXYNBm0ILlNIpUwa1w0nL4sklm0JXQsTHnDrSWfT8Kb4PzUfoDQOtOPtuO4e0rK0Wy8ajZhPTtMHHNSRm7I2qBfO7/s320/IMG_7112.jpg" width="240" /></a></div><div><br /></div>But there were further fences too, warning signs and signs of possession. </div><div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgcL4-qPoXJb5rUylFZbtIgYAMK9HZQ8yNTJ_6bR0VXpdmqebKnnVH73JuzcjUIMDTCMnNxsBy4c1oYLTXjLta15RjmMrab-pENpwcmOI4Yjh8MlYibxLAZSDE2z8hRTzaCRZCzUasn5EAMfa7TE2A9LNfYBHUcGTdw-cEOUlTx1b4DWdeTGOPsFtSmXj2s/s4032/IMG_7113.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgcL4-qPoXJb5rUylFZbtIgYAMK9HZQ8yNTJ_6bR0VXpdmqebKnnVH73JuzcjUIMDTCMnNxsBy4c1oYLTXjLta15RjmMrab-pENpwcmOI4Yjh8MlYibxLAZSDE2z8hRTzaCRZCzUasn5EAMfa7TE2A9LNfYBHUcGTdw-cEOUlTx1b4DWdeTGOPsFtSmXj2s/s320/IMG_7113.jpg" width="240" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; 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margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhRentGqy7TW3zXR7-K4DQEyeR4HiG43BHqLGaxjmVmz0xgxuP8kt4zyOM-tK_EThDg03r8JhJ3mshy3nYt5ZGe7NjpM2joVdbLne08sBMOa4KWiysDn7a0CTITgjUh_j5YGFezOAc5gDDdVk5Bbn48VDqMY77499LSQtWSzUyHWiGO7wAZMv4n5ZFb6zxc/s320/IMG_7115.jpg" width="240" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhnYGxNXQwIpJmhBGBhLLGOUD6Xo9XREiGv_OOFhBvIPpj2Zfx86BCB64nuUq4UInul-BhyUvwVXA2WPA1c351r7SOXJKj9KLn175jv9hcEx6k2Hn81Q-NOa-C7dJzEEE39m5ziHYoT2OJPXr6OWYEIjtzhXBoKilSptlHnDJXa7TTmj4xCyQ2BIuLVFdqG/s4032/IMG_7116.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhnYGxNXQwIpJmhBGBhLLGOUD6Xo9XREiGv_OOFhBvIPpj2Zfx86BCB64nuUq4UInul-BhyUvwVXA2WPA1c351r7SOXJKj9KLn175jv9hcEx6k2Hn81Q-NOa-C7dJzEEE39m5ziHYoT2OJPXr6OWYEIjtzhXBoKilSptlHnDJXa7TTmj4xCyQ2BIuLVFdqG/s320/IMG_7116.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEia0Bs-3-4qAPvfUWuWMNKRMOFm63mZ2U39TeEk_5KgWgcB2JBfhZvKjYR_ge27OrO8jmBnklblSZGGJARDflst720DqTFq45XEaXR53ALJtxwkic0SfaKupKjS64F6j63Ckm7tjGA6ZzBTrqf02BdDHldlcuKl2mHXv8tDd_pmVtrYBgeyUhwnXzX2KrWM/s4032/IMG_7117.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEia0Bs-3-4qAPvfUWuWMNKRMOFm63mZ2U39TeEk_5KgWgcB2JBfhZvKjYR_ge27OrO8jmBnklblSZGGJARDflst720DqTFq45XEaXR53ALJtxwkic0SfaKupKjS64F6j63Ckm7tjGA6ZzBTrqf02BdDHldlcuKl2mHXv8tDd_pmVtrYBgeyUhwnXzX2KrWM/s320/IMG_7117.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div><br /></div><div>I reached the road and turned onto Sherifs Lane. More notices, more tracks of human movement and the lane twisting into the drizzle. </div><div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjC4ys4ER1nMaYH3msP3-uanqCnKss5fsG57tinKPYmslTlguVb763BS4l7oJQ5JChTWvTzasbbZc1VmrpzNcPhMKyNfO0S1Jj55K6ujeVsdOdm6RdzPDpPqOJ-KRVfKEVWNJ6iiKRDXV-oeN_Ai1FA_q-Mk2o5goTmPOL2372qw508bgqKkpSKvhJELglC/s4032/IMG_7118.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjC4ys4ER1nMaYH3msP3-uanqCnKss5fsG57tinKPYmslTlguVb763BS4l7oJQ5JChTWvTzasbbZc1VmrpzNcPhMKyNfO0S1Jj55K6ujeVsdOdm6RdzPDpPqOJ-KRVfKEVWNJ6iiKRDXV-oeN_Ai1FA_q-Mk2o5goTmPOL2372qw508bgqKkpSKvhJELglC/s320/IMG_7118.jpg" width="240" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhgFIfSGAqnj1AQ6sTqUXsdnBqiwu7q4C1abJ1-OmM1K8j7Fb_gSxNeX0GI_Tj5TDr9erdsfE5KRQYwEAhLcoZ2b3HoCMlu_tBM4IX9iwWIZwebsZrr0Yt84Bt9Rq33lZH6e0T_uuTRbUvS5TruvWBHfJo5tXnwObT5RWEPmjxSv1OLhKD_OGfumxizd6O3/s4032/IMG_7120.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhgFIfSGAqnj1AQ6sTqUXsdnBqiwu7q4C1abJ1-OmM1K8j7Fb_gSxNeX0GI_Tj5TDr9erdsfE5KRQYwEAhLcoZ2b3HoCMlu_tBM4IX9iwWIZwebsZrr0Yt84Bt9Rq33lZH6e0T_uuTRbUvS5TruvWBHfJo5tXnwObT5RWEPmjxSv1OLhKD_OGfumxizd6O3/s320/IMG_7120.jpg" width="240" /></a></div><div><br /></div>A tractor passed. It had been cutting the hedges back to their notched and knotted stubs. </div><div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQe3TzxKxnozrDcbZ8NynzgWwpulwuDBxVuUmiAvJQfIu2Ajm8sEmvd5glF9l2SsYiY-3pypN7cw7hkq8Ftb0TiKGfCEj-cvixyCCwhXWOeFwFvpku_dkIxCxG9u6veoNHWSLInrSMczrUNbGzT1xU9G_ntgW-fZtLquBGrTnpO3tQ0wiqYhAy08f8gQQs/s4032/IMG_7121.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQe3TzxKxnozrDcbZ8NynzgWwpulwuDBxVuUmiAvJQfIu2Ajm8sEmvd5glF9l2SsYiY-3pypN7cw7hkq8Ftb0TiKGfCEj-cvixyCCwhXWOeFwFvpku_dkIxCxG9u6veoNHWSLInrSMczrUNbGzT1xU9G_ntgW-fZtLquBGrTnpO3tQ0wiqYhAy08f8gQQs/s320/IMG_7121.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div><br /></div>The more I looked, the more I spotted the marks of human hands and feet. I thought about the human animal, the devices we use to guide or drive ourselves through particular thoroughfares and the reasons for our doing so. </div><div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgyjWr22qxsLpseEVSK2Rta13bte9rc8AbvDYVBlFPBID2JZtswGBW5FNAAVQAgWMy5U9uHRX9AR1TwNueEVKJUjdJKFfHjlwojiKHiucQSQryK3S3l04XyaQwkY7Ed23b-i8ePavpiB0IeBxVwh82bpJJZRjwFL1M2emer2utXzz3ApNpAXAcTDYLXgFMI/s4032/IMG_7124.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgyjWr22qxsLpseEVSK2Rta13bte9rc8AbvDYVBlFPBID2JZtswGBW5FNAAVQAgWMy5U9uHRX9AR1TwNueEVKJUjdJKFfHjlwojiKHiucQSQryK3S3l04XyaQwkY7Ed23b-i8ePavpiB0IeBxVwh82bpJJZRjwFL1M2emer2utXzz3ApNpAXAcTDYLXgFMI/s320/IMG_7124.jpg" width="240" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjcgId2VuZx8SgzVJ0ngTDe3NiqSClaWX_1ym-I5xyKwZ_dVCrSPYEE4XIt8mwvEv217_JiaXvaRYy0SrnHnmRAvhxeDNPCg0jyDRw2JrWcL3QET8vYi4p19lqE0GeMzMJzuLiUjzIVSG3lEyPzKw0QUee6I1J8JPmOB0dwZtccZH5a_RoH20QDod7fYb5K/s4032/IMG_7125.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjcgId2VuZx8SgzVJ0ngTDe3NiqSClaWX_1ym-I5xyKwZ_dVCrSPYEE4XIt8mwvEv217_JiaXvaRYy0SrnHnmRAvhxeDNPCg0jyDRw2JrWcL3QET8vYi4p19lqE0GeMzMJzuLiUjzIVSG3lEyPzKw0QUee6I1J8JPmOB0dwZtccZH5a_RoH20QDod7fYb5K/s320/IMG_7125.jpg" width="240" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTRAlbyutQpw2XcsjdGnSof_QPOx5LXx0QIZN_JCEm86VTSdoeBBW_rumCTh61H7nun-lQjmP8r_uZywsElFRBL7TbZdydRVoseCGdzAgUNAjta_nndGbg1KBBZQibUAEAxovcF7nVPQhE_UyLrhGmNoL8HBje8xa4WpqJM3sDGYR0JhPQ80pFQHeSrtK0/s4032/IMG_7128.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTRAlbyutQpw2XcsjdGnSof_QPOx5LXx0QIZN_JCEm86VTSdoeBBW_rumCTh61H7nun-lQjmP8r_uZywsElFRBL7TbZdydRVoseCGdzAgUNAjta_nndGbg1KBBZQibUAEAxovcF7nVPQhE_UyLrhGmNoL8HBje8xa4WpqJM3sDGYR0JhPQ80pFQHeSrtK0/s320/IMG_7128.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div><br /></div>I should have taken some photos of my destination, the Cuckoo Line Stores (under the old railway bridge, turn left at the end of the lane) but I was too busy buying a pie for lunch. I headed home the same way, back along Sherifs Lane where there were yet more guiding signs and human imprints. </div><div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhO82mIQijHVLEqAp9KDmVM80yzmxvgNzX6hs2E_1bOFfe4w68wH_zg2ic9OTdzjQfeRs70CyWYgRzd7wdtBh33u8SXB8WFaRlsoXQ7lcdU5rf8uTODMhcVGOJUvQvdwC06zO2dl4hz3XtXCcABtfmYq3gb8ZNy7ETMp4MVS52BkaiKkPj3y-iQtqqGbQFk/s4032/IMG_7129.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhO82mIQijHVLEqAp9KDmVM80yzmxvgNzX6hs2E_1bOFfe4w68wH_zg2ic9OTdzjQfeRs70CyWYgRzd7wdtBh33u8SXB8WFaRlsoXQ7lcdU5rf8uTODMhcVGOJUvQvdwC06zO2dl4hz3XtXCcABtfmYq3gb8ZNy7ETMp4MVS52BkaiKkPj3y-iQtqqGbQFk/s320/IMG_7129.jpg" width="240" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiuIJMttmZZJorpVRCEUcWCT4mHo9O-C9jH3AQyydBUoguShDvvbTKJF52Yjb1-Hl8eJ_yarGshZmeDr9tgtGQ8VZHa7qd8Uljbw33eTlE4dDMlx3DebCPxNRuHcoyX2th5RwOb4cSODAuyRdl1CJPtupLNNYOaBgIYlIROfxVClYmraKBhZxjYfaewtfuf/s4032/IMG_7133.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiuIJMttmZZJorpVRCEUcWCT4mHo9O-C9jH3AQyydBUoguShDvvbTKJF52Yjb1-Hl8eJ_yarGshZmeDr9tgtGQ8VZHa7qd8Uljbw33eTlE4dDMlx3DebCPxNRuHcoyX2th5RwOb4cSODAuyRdl1CJPtupLNNYOaBgIYlIROfxVClYmraKBhZxjYfaewtfuf/s320/IMG_7133.jpg" width="240" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEimjWYNqBhtf8UnZDfnjLOBluHGAu28H_rdRTk3d06pu7-IjZNpq5IKNxQ5QI7qcw4q2oAe2HISxNUISyR7yYo-tvcrAcRKAJiMA9Ck8c58JpnCom6lld-VqSXQ64czbNvxkPle1Q9naEqi8YlZ26TFAikyT5KCSoI_Gi4cXbRrvLb_skAaGJ6eKSp4yWJI/s4032/IMG_7134.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEimjWYNqBhtf8UnZDfnjLOBluHGAu28H_rdRTk3d06pu7-IjZNpq5IKNxQ5QI7qcw4q2oAe2HISxNUISyR7yYo-tvcrAcRKAJiMA9Ck8c58JpnCom6lld-VqSXQ64czbNvxkPle1Q9naEqi8YlZ26TFAikyT5KCSoI_Gi4cXbRrvLb_skAaGJ6eKSp4yWJI/s320/IMG_7134.jpg" width="240" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6GKDV2we2cmYmHMnZTqM4zruFw957Tyb2PRhBcpQE4UP3Ebfyl5S-p0YGMP8Rf27D2WI3riwHHT97VqLLKXvRyzfh3yTpZCKL0GlUsKjVHBP0aabDx8iaFK22IhIdzEIPwe9EtfuOwXn4BEP7aExqG7im5gABqXxFj_CNS2xPamGHGxSz_rtBJn9ILyeL/s4032/IMG_7136.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6GKDV2we2cmYmHMnZTqM4zruFw957Tyb2PRhBcpQE4UP3Ebfyl5S-p0YGMP8Rf27D2WI3riwHHT97VqLLKXvRyzfh3yTpZCKL0GlUsKjVHBP0aabDx8iaFK22IhIdzEIPwe9EtfuOwXn4BEP7aExqG7im5gABqXxFj_CNS2xPamGHGxSz_rtBJn9ILyeL/s320/IMG_7136.jpg" width="240" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_VNzVjNyHhn7mqsmLihudwx6mLRf5BxEiRzYFP62OsBSTP1cMkISIyTDkF0G-YpOcOLF7HxewjXMuFDRftmL8z6d3_6_w5QR00ESQE5dCHlmblvRGjGHBMFaQH-LST1fHBmDvNwoXTnWY780V9qt1-lNqbd3J1ikzqXMoYIQfE_c8ikr-y0B7zG8PSFcl/s4032/IMG_7138.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_VNzVjNyHhn7mqsmLihudwx6mLRf5BxEiRzYFP62OsBSTP1cMkISIyTDkF0G-YpOcOLF7HxewjXMuFDRftmL8z6d3_6_w5QR00ESQE5dCHlmblvRGjGHBMFaQH-LST1fHBmDvNwoXTnWY780V9qt1-lNqbd3J1ikzqXMoYIQfE_c8ikr-y0B7zG8PSFcl/s320/IMG_7138.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5lC2FS4-yX8hskNy_RjBIVuRHw0tcrmCQGx_R2N38tUGhFT2pPd-3yTFQpWfvzs687iCA31fIrLMXFOS8OTIAqjV61z6kGT9vCZsqCIic0D_V3qvkr816_xmp8ciAMlPopodFfkYv9RReuw2BJGVSMWFU-p-y2I4THcFXJlyVaQLmS4BtlBojQgyUGTtE/s4032/IMG_7140.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5lC2FS4-yX8hskNy_RjBIVuRHw0tcrmCQGx_R2N38tUGhFT2pPd-3yTFQpWfvzs687iCA31fIrLMXFOS8OTIAqjV61z6kGT9vCZsqCIic0D_V3qvkr816_xmp8ciAMlPopodFfkYv9RReuw2BJGVSMWFU-p-y2I4THcFXJlyVaQLmS4BtlBojQgyUGTtE/s320/IMG_7140.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div><br /></div>I also thought about what we cast off and how we've inscribed ourselves onto the world around us. </div><div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; 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text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSYZrw8P_uMdjwEBoSlev-wpbTuwcikZGm2DA5EYf7JrPmYuqnTVxgKVSfoN8_p1sxekq9NHTRVzOgdgH7gjjltYE69iXj2WE15YV4r4hXOpowM1v9o1CTTgvj0JhK60Kmb_UGmPlTnk8gE6oYZ0VeWXBLwM5HMN6eFDOaxBw5ZnBoQG8N7OfzKsQdaIyF/s4032/IMG_7162.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSYZrw8P_uMdjwEBoSlev-wpbTuwcikZGm2DA5EYf7JrPmYuqnTVxgKVSfoN8_p1sxekq9NHTRVzOgdgH7gjjltYE69iXj2WE15YV4r4hXOpowM1v9o1CTTgvj0JhK60Kmb_UGmPlTnk8gE6oYZ0VeWXBLwM5HMN6eFDOaxBw5ZnBoQG8N7OfzKsQdaIyF/s320/IMG_7162.jpg" width="240" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxHkgwIh4zlaUrClc8CY9DBv10b7Nw_SLncNLzmhX7YBbqu-3vLOjkuY0uWfAh7Km23X5Ry8ZaeHy7W4H7oMavOidaoOu34EroqYEwA-NpxF-tB21VZALaJ5xtelRJa0EnqYwTwDO76lGNtadHRjVpuX9AKhFAH3rcqlBLfsH2RX2UVDLSc9jw_7UuE-JN/s4032/IMG_7163.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxHkgwIh4zlaUrClc8CY9DBv10b7Nw_SLncNLzmhX7YBbqu-3vLOjkuY0uWfAh7Km23X5Ry8ZaeHy7W4H7oMavOidaoOu34EroqYEwA-NpxF-tB21VZALaJ5xtelRJa0EnqYwTwDO76lGNtadHRjVpuX9AKhFAH3rcqlBLfsH2RX2UVDLSc9jw_7UuE-JN/s320/IMG_7163.jpg" width="240" /></a></div><div><br /></div><div>After another hour's walk I reached my lane again. </div><div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgIQwOy1CeYGVGHz9Ho5I5-cu0NipXtImTT5HsrY4edtdh8FbFcojhYXbN73ba2d0OePjHB_wOuGYAxuWB_acpVOLXHWi0OqRP4PTzjW6-Tb41MDp_MZ1aIrtY2m75CkHOWjL6jV39yjkqM-AbxsYAxHW1nmnxglMimvXu6SS6NQ54U0CH-gDZWPkDqX1M8/s4032/IMG_7164.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgIQwOy1CeYGVGHz9Ho5I5-cu0NipXtImTT5HsrY4edtdh8FbFcojhYXbN73ba2d0OePjHB_wOuGYAxuWB_acpVOLXHWi0OqRP4PTzjW6-Tb41MDp_MZ1aIrtY2m75CkHOWjL6jV39yjkqM-AbxsYAxHW1nmnxglMimvXu6SS6NQ54U0CH-gDZWPkDqX1M8/s320/IMG_7164.jpg" width="240" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEged62CplhA54DYWpcgJs6nofFMQq1X1aZ01HX7Dm40iYJ7R-OJb-H1ehfR-IoNzyRLxtZtQ5QTogDTrd6pTQT2aplWfGR5ngBba92njIGp4HZHQZURhvmLSNmfbyjAWCqmsER-QEbuon1XVtmqRFOiyDLDQomeBZhWAKaWY35rdFrEloODBC-oHce_Fsg-/s4032/IMG_7165.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEged62CplhA54DYWpcgJs6nofFMQq1X1aZ01HX7Dm40iYJ7R-OJb-H1ehfR-IoNzyRLxtZtQ5QTogDTrd6pTQT2aplWfGR5ngBba92njIGp4HZHQZURhvmLSNmfbyjAWCqmsER-QEbuon1XVtmqRFOiyDLDQomeBZhWAKaWY35rdFrEloODBC-oHce_Fsg-/s320/IMG_7165.jpg" width="240" /></a></div><br /><p>I felt my old sense of accomplishment at having visited another encampment. The Weald is so boggy, especially at this time of year, walking in winter here is often a matter of sliding on clay or levering one's feet out of sucking mud, and our communities tend to sit on hills as far above the squelchy valleys as our ancestors could get. We don't often walk from one village to another now and, without wishing to get too romantic about it, whenever I walk to another community I feel I'm connecting to a forgotten practice. It nurtures my sense of well-being, just as it did when I was young and lost, in the quiet, steady process of using my body to discover, map and grow more aware of the world around me. </p><p>I also came away with a sense of the inescapable humanity of the Wealden landscape: the fences and notices, the hedges that carry the marks of years of pruning even long after they've grown out. Humans are everywhere here, it doesn't matter that I'm possibly the only person who walks from Mayfield to Rotherfield these days, the tracks between the two villages are sunk deep in the clay, they're ditched on either side and bounded with borders and signs that have channelled people and other animals for centuries. Walking from one village to another is easy, despite the cars and mud, we've been doing it for so long that we're guided all the way. Perhaps that's also why I love it, perhaps it's comforting too. Perhaps when it's still a way of reassuring myself that I'm not lost. </p></div></div>Sian Thomashttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14777626768711738619noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5096402002848160090.post-46020778936961634232024-01-16T15:05:00.009+00:002024-01-18T09:04:17.705+00:00Parsons Wood<p> It's been a long time since I wrote anything here. I type these words on a blank page and wonder how on earth I'll fill the space. I can't remember how to update my profile and replace the photo Phill took of me more than ten years ago with something more suitably middle-aged (Note, 18th January: I worked it out!). I'm also typing around my cat Hellebore, who's trying to make a warming nest on my lap. She was a kitten when I started this blog, now she's a teenager. </p><p>With one eye on the past then, this morning I walked to Parsons Wood. I don't think it's officially called Parsons, it's listed on the OS map as Vicarage Wood: </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5wHul0GEggOs1nmiNmSTzEUeq4aBS2ZtG4NHZk6nfdO5WGscJ8fPNKZcPaJwHfcAoKi3yKm7UW6QX7PHlUcA_6mq1w0qjg4yAfmqmmhhecmn8bvmHqk4qQOEU-63FL2mhzzPVeKgEV0AGWGJ9bAnHJ8eU28X-7DmPSqZcyRAG6MG5OaPb80bA42sjKarm/s4032/IMG_7056.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5wHul0GEggOs1nmiNmSTzEUeq4aBS2ZtG4NHZk6nfdO5WGscJ8fPNKZcPaJwHfcAoKi3yKm7UW6QX7PHlUcA_6mq1w0qjg4yAfmqmmhhecmn8bvmHqk4qQOEU-63FL2mhzzPVeKgEV0AGWGJ9bAnHJ8eU28X-7DmPSqZcyRAG6MG5OaPb80bA42sjKarm/s320/IMG_7056.jpg" width="240" /></a></div><p>This is the tattered old map that Phill and I bought when we first moved to the village twenty-odd years ago. Its folds are ripped now and there are blood stains all over it, no doubt from some argument with a dog rose or a bramble.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiyKmS7i6FY44VQXgTP_j0Jjt5mWLaj2mpZyUPhUv2f9z-CWKtJsiTo7Fr85tkZqliSIXjd1VvDWUE41k4ni-Xd5nteGrdQ8oNtHP7Rs0IjbksGgjgDD7tMx-27DcfqIdS5sminWikOvI9-7pvYGzoJQS3z-8nWqv-DO1XecNaD-HgIfzUUDq_h1MNb6iEx/s4032/IMG_6998.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiyKmS7i6FY44VQXgTP_j0Jjt5mWLaj2mpZyUPhUv2f9z-CWKtJsiTo7Fr85tkZqliSIXjd1VvDWUE41k4ni-Xd5nteGrdQ8oNtHP7Rs0IjbksGgjgDD7tMx-27DcfqIdS5sminWikOvI9-7pvYGzoJQS3z-8nWqv-DO1XecNaD-HgIfzUUDq_h1MNb6iEx/s320/IMG_6998.jpg" width="240" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="text-align: left;">I walked through the village in biting January frost and down through Court Meadow into the woods. It's been a struggle to walk on the Wealden footpaths recently, our heavy clay makes them a cloggy, slippery business, our boots end up dragging mud and it's treacherous stuff, I can understand why many people give up walking in the winter. Today though the ground was solid and all boot, paw and hoof prints were caked with ice. </span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="text-align: left;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1Xs-NJjpK3HeE1JDXdCbQ9PU7dymroYRPkxjIJljGjVvVOwwyPuqDD9-8RjayXlQanL1SFQ7dukktWy53BlvKu03ie1MfxM9OTJyulvCRXq-I4IXCac4aUmOoa32SnyBSNbmSf5HlJ_UlSNnEOgNFNKCphJCc4qnYPeVkmi9JhjD4gql9_xAlKw4_7NSd/s4032/IMG_7005.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1Xs-NJjpK3HeE1JDXdCbQ9PU7dymroYRPkxjIJljGjVvVOwwyPuqDD9-8RjayXlQanL1SFQ7dukktWy53BlvKu03ie1MfxM9OTJyulvCRXq-I4IXCac4aUmOoa32SnyBSNbmSf5HlJ_UlSNnEOgNFNKCphJCc4qnYPeVkmi9JhjD4gql9_xAlKw4_7NSd/s320/IMG_7005.jpg" width="240" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjI3nQawXyoFOiIlPY7K0voa7enbQkxAnQ8MiNNOAsoFslIdPicQ2NkMFgvB_szuVdzQM1PkCVC9RW850gP3v0tNHnryPPgtjSQRSKbQu6Ven52oTzU4WqDlNQ9g721zb2S6DVnG-3sghXG9D8DtvR-6ybuL2bNfSwpqPU2UrZ07omgMfEJ-9RZcUfC2Cx1/s4032/IMG_7006.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjI3nQawXyoFOiIlPY7K0voa7enbQkxAnQ8MiNNOAsoFslIdPicQ2NkMFgvB_szuVdzQM1PkCVC9RW850gP3v0tNHnryPPgtjSQRSKbQu6Ven52oTzU4WqDlNQ9g721zb2S6DVnG-3sghXG9D8DtvR-6ybuL2bNfSwpqPU2UrZ07omgMfEJ-9RZcUfC2Cx1/s320/IMG_7006.jpg" width="240" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhRPFi0JD4WDrK8LxZNJtouCTHwyiOUV3-xiOPcAaGY1G3WDOz7IM1wyzTRj_l1xKAQcHjwuFesjRe2WjkbySEHslYGoofvRC72rCjl3uFNH4Tn50npqChaSZGbS0uuHly_OehmWJ47J63ZEFGdECc2TemCiMf1aiJFrfV2LAjQrWqqHimgPsdfEMeoEqDU/s4032/IMG_7008.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhRPFi0JD4WDrK8LxZNJtouCTHwyiOUV3-xiOPcAaGY1G3WDOz7IM1wyzTRj_l1xKAQcHjwuFesjRe2WjkbySEHslYGoofvRC72rCjl3uFNH4Tn50npqChaSZGbS0uuHly_OehmWJ47J63ZEFGdECc2TemCiMf1aiJFrfV2LAjQrWqqHimgPsdfEMeoEqDU/s320/IMG_7008.jpg" width="240" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgcCHBB_zPh7PNTL42Or25OpWtwtwCgQ-JQxIr-vrRNYfZGkoJIMDdk65gIXVARciLRKoLOVcReuw0-z5YsSKU75L-CxDBfbVGzgN9eOeYMGhdi1E8wLF3Y716PZdnRU23tnW_pzVicZEtukn_oTXhUOHlQjkzMnyTiXrhGPVRrjoFV3beAuD6n-HaRnrb7/s4032/IMG_7052.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgcCHBB_zPh7PNTL42Or25OpWtwtwCgQ-JQxIr-vrRNYfZGkoJIMDdk65gIXVARciLRKoLOVcReuw0-z5YsSKU75L-CxDBfbVGzgN9eOeYMGhdi1E8wLF3Y716PZdnRU23tnW_pzVicZEtukn_oTXhUOHlQjkzMnyTiXrhGPVRrjoFV3beAuD6n-HaRnrb7/s320/IMG_7052.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; 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margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhL1t9ez_I8VpA2n0HrYdQ08sdLRbY_Ezuz9wsv1OzKE4JW1yTGEypHoqdMOoPxKHry9GEuAcs0qZ0xeANvkZAfjaEPFUXLhdJlvivX4jeALJSdSQHkFZ8G8XdZShdDHu0HpPhYlN5eHoVl_J2ch0v56-ZJOFXR07cO-6-Qb2QFriUf2m8aXSNeB0YEM-KE/s320/IMG_7011.jpg" width="240" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8S3QvYNSqjVjqCIZRzhxGARZdYrGvyZFRRThsHSWkQ378sOHMHBsmDNa229lCB1zF2ofjazjEJBpmxSh4Em7pMpQPoFRKNEzxBRnuHyOrsybTVM4lEq_O7MXpL4TwF826KUjJbovnmWKqMxm_Yt48ozZSnrnzmgFE8kTCAZ-fdf1-aohN0_24jFvyV8Kk/s4032/IMG_7012.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8S3QvYNSqjVjqCIZRzhxGARZdYrGvyZFRRThsHSWkQ378sOHMHBsmDNa229lCB1zF2ofjazjEJBpmxSh4Em7pMpQPoFRKNEzxBRnuHyOrsybTVM4lEq_O7MXpL4TwF826KUjJbovnmWKqMxm_Yt48ozZSnrnzmgFE8kTCAZ-fdf1-aohN0_24jFvyV8Kk/s320/IMG_7012.jpg" width="240" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgP-bitZu3aafV_PUaj8DFCmW7of_CQttaWVQvtyVwaivJr85EQH6UENj0RwUdzFktohwjWhUdfVeYPOrznpnjjJe8OWFjeTxNw1UrfeDohkCiuZJX4NybuJCOq6cTiW3G6sJgKSCilpJo-P-ZWm2ow8yVf0IDIw9bPWw-FjXKP9FamNdpYo5Kor50XH7oz/s4032/IMG_7025.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgP-bitZu3aafV_PUaj8DFCmW7of_CQttaWVQvtyVwaivJr85EQH6UENj0RwUdzFktohwjWhUdfVeYPOrznpnjjJe8OWFjeTxNw1UrfeDohkCiuZJX4NybuJCOq6cTiW3G6sJgKSCilpJo-P-ZWm2ow8yVf0IDIw9bPWw-FjXKP9FamNdpYo5Kor50XH7oz/s320/IMG_7025.jpg" width="240" /></a></div><p>I walked to the <a href="http://4-quarters.blogspot.com/2010/06/spring-clootie-tree.html">clottie tree</a> that Rebecca, Johnny and I first dressed in 2010. Fourteen years have passed since then, Rebecca now lives in Greater Manchester, Johnny recently returned from seven years living in southwest France and the Four Quarters has taken a new form, but more of that another time. </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhRlp_Rr7hfkfC_jivQ5BHgXLI8v8-X4pHHUcwGd7Okc6kobUMQ9IAseOc9VgItFM3qjIgLrllGLHWeFH1lRlpQ51Ppk7PkjfzWtD-LDmJwfw1lA2K9EkBDlVX2NE4mwh8xG8yO52GhU4mKf0TI5dkO-1UfUKc24WhVLqCvH0wEQ05eUsAKWQebRH-xTLvI/s4032/IMG_7042.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhRlp_Rr7hfkfC_jivQ5BHgXLI8v8-X4pHHUcwGd7Okc6kobUMQ9IAseOc9VgItFM3qjIgLrllGLHWeFH1lRlpQ51Ppk7PkjfzWtD-LDmJwfw1lA2K9EkBDlVX2NE4mwh8xG8yO52GhU4mKf0TI5dkO-1UfUKc24WhVLqCvH0wEQ05eUsAKWQebRH-xTLvI/s320/IMG_7042.jpg" width="240" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwjPSwJm48dB_w2aQOglRU2qgATLfNsMzu1NRUOHV_UauzoB4VGzsINfa8qxluPuiLG_Rxn1QRhwxPztJAYnfnVj2ejF_A0Rwg_g1PfIhgzGomq43TEYBxp5kBOWO-pdolkZKIsJf6RYVGSlxX_fUFeTRbPeX14R1e7mhadrig_aLJEvtpAiTBUEdfVTuy/s4032/IMG_7043.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwjPSwJm48dB_w2aQOglRU2qgATLfNsMzu1NRUOHV_UauzoB4VGzsINfa8qxluPuiLG_Rxn1QRhwxPztJAYnfnVj2ejF_A0Rwg_g1PfIhgzGomq43TEYBxp5kBOWO-pdolkZKIsJf6RYVGSlxX_fUFeTRbPeX14R1e7mhadrig_aLJEvtpAiTBUEdfVTuy/s320/IMG_7043.jpg" width="240" /></a></div><p>I gave the clottie tree a friendly pat and turned for home, stopping only to scribble the odd note, photograph a frosted leaf or stem and to soak up the winter sunshine.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh44sZhzrGwoMcBnk2NdAnjmurPgviSo2RRk4zv-lHMkw0pnwpRX_SSCA8EB4yL9XtrTF1lT0Z9GCWPUirVDkLIKldlxstZPvlSsYb7oF-hJXCwuDh3FygIPIlR_LtkJPHxQTTjC4M8GfcWbDIDK_Fm6Nbn7gAA0jeXrFywOx_soH6rF3C_2qSLkn73_YFt/s4032/IMG_7055.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; 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margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgG7qgNy2wK1P-bNcbYsben4d8GRh48RD7oC8NHG-kUVw2Y8ZAT04yaH1L1I1KVyy-77LyvsoMDbcRyUS4Z_WeiyLap2rS-OwXsGRrr5QssqFv2DJyXdc14JI8eL02qkNnTO3SwTKnd5WIA2mEiYfVYUacvrPp4iH7UjHepixlsGvMc63Hqy5jfuRmvD3J3/s320/IMG_7031.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><p>I thought about how quickly life moves. The oak saplings in the fields were only a few inches high when I last stopped to look at them, now they're proper trees. Everything, even January, scoots by. Soon it'll be Candlemas and daylight will come swooping back to us with spring in its claws. </p>Sian Thomashttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14777626768711738619noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5096402002848160090.post-55944804121665186582020-08-11T11:57:00.006+01:002020-08-11T12:00:06.094+01:00Wolf<p> </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiuqJ6jIMcD73uykDIxRYfHS_X-gy2KYao0uIBYMiXDe3mkKDR3ng3UkwdUe0UX1LoJy5NyMqnJKPla39t2eE0v7OpuzMeMhGsgnzvb1gMl3g275HI7dK5XJtpaPlx9-5ynm22GSy_ImlF4/s2048/D7B09572-CD6B-4037-BACE-3B14C0C35AE9.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="2048" height="410" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiuqJ6jIMcD73uykDIxRYfHS_X-gy2KYao0uIBYMiXDe3mkKDR3ng3UkwdUe0UX1LoJy5NyMqnJKPla39t2eE0v7OpuzMeMhGsgnzvb1gMl3g275HI7dK5XJtpaPlx9-5ynm22GSy_ImlF4/w410-h410/D7B09572-CD6B-4037-BACE-3B14C0C35AE9.jpg" width="410" /></a></div><p></p>Sian Thomashttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14777626768711738619noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5096402002848160090.post-57641044456427698492020-07-07T13:25:00.001+01:002020-08-11T11:53:13.686+01:00Flash in a Pan Poems<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiVNmGY514jgJM9ByUQDTdrsVC-VNaQDz31CsDIFpK_bML91Qsm2-QNvrEDE-xnSq1i3t2HnHTYInmI97YiTzBhXXOCGf3WkmY9ADDFm3CZ0KlVeNJUDV5WtOv8WoOB9BrYM8HG3_s68cAB/s1600/IMG_3242.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiVNmGY514jgJM9ByUQDTdrsVC-VNaQDz31CsDIFpK_bML91Qsm2-QNvrEDE-xnSq1i3t2HnHTYInmI97YiTzBhXXOCGf3WkmY9ADDFm3CZ0KlVeNJUDV5WtOv8WoOB9BrYM8HG3_s68cAB/s640/IMG_3242.JPG" width="480" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgOeu3AEDF0qnjoarUePtzD5J0fTS3Po_ofteaQHILgYLyn3QlI0cwG56PPM37U8hPWAaqCKY0fsNniZ6lkRj-mc1TjUsa4irXeKIpsQ3TnZ49IWYsX3wJGwXNYPRUwNnl1hi0ShaUpSLXP/s1600/F3.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><img border="0" data-original-height="320" data-original-width="321" height="199" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgOeu3AEDF0qnjoarUePtzD5J0fTS3Po_ofteaQHILgYLyn3QlI0cwG56PPM37U8hPWAaqCKY0fsNniZ6lkRj-mc1TjUsa4irXeKIpsQ3TnZ49IWYsX3wJGwXNYPRUwNnl1hi0ShaUpSLXP/s200/F3.jpg" width="200" /></span></a>rom time to time I write poems with content so contemporary they'll be out of date in a few months. I thought I'd publish them here rather than trying to find homes for them in magazines. </div>
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There's been an awful lot of contemporary recently, life seems to change so quickly and the things that shocked, worried or delighted me last week seem to pale in comparison to the current week's events. </div>
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The first poem is printed above. I wrote it when Phill and I went back to Cuckmere Haven on the Sussex coast for the first time since lockdown began. I won't say any more, the poem can speak for itself. </div>
Sian Thomashttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14777626768711738619noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5096402002848160090.post-67694676094724033102019-04-30T11:58:00.000+01:002019-04-30T11:59:47.715+01:00Poems in The Clearing <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiqGiqP_xkSRhtCql2y5oI7WJ7i0LScaEe0rH10ObMieDfeQHhZb2iIQxTKm1avTOPx3dQrY9mydjfb1kDTXsTyLL3P9huSg35jewB2ekURo-zNnq1Qp03wwEPBAU5pid-w_6Y1aAGMxDDC/s1600/IMG_2467.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiqGiqP_xkSRhtCql2y5oI7WJ7i0LScaEe0rH10ObMieDfeQHhZb2iIQxTKm1avTOPx3dQrY9mydjfb1kDTXsTyLL3P9huSg35jewB2ekURo-zNnq1Qp03wwEPBAU5pid-w_6Y1aAGMxDDC/s320/IMG_2467.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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Six of my Ashdown Forest poems have just been published in the brilliant journal of landscape writing, <a href="https://www.littletoller.co.uk/the-clearing/" target="_blank">The Clearing.</a> Sian Thomashttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14777626768711738619noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5096402002848160090.post-26251533746731548602019-04-09T12:04:00.002+01:002019-04-09T12:05:33.344+01:00Sprung Poems<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjzO_U1Jw8MuO7W_B6QcRz6kECGJhvGIDMf8aKDbnyR-bpMMcOYvSjbOo1-76qoO7YFtK_pcOA1sZJiSqT7C2C0XDxJGT6VRCI9P90k7OalAD3YS5loJVYsmjLh_AfU84RORMFMWG6R9UTs/s1600/IMG_2430.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjzO_U1Jw8MuO7W_B6QcRz6kECGJhvGIDMf8aKDbnyR-bpMMcOYvSjbOo1-76qoO7YFtK_pcOA1sZJiSqT7C2C0XDxJGT6VRCI9P90k7OalAD3YS5loJVYsmjLh_AfU84RORMFMWG6R9UTs/s320/IMG_2430.JPG" width="240" /></a></div>
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Come along to Ashdown Forest Centre this Thursday for an evening of Sprung Poems between 6.30 and 8pm. There will be wine and nibbles and much splendid poetry and prose. Sian Thomashttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14777626768711738619noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5096402002848160090.post-53354304117786014512017-11-27T15:26:00.002+00:002017-11-27T15:26:50.791+00:00Mulled Poems, 30th November<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<span style="font-size: x-small;"><i>Ashdown Forest, Winter View</i> by Robin Webster</span></div>
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This Thursday evening between 6 and 8pm we will once again meet at Ashdown Forest Centre to raise a glass of mulled wine, tuck away a mince pie or two and read seasonal poems. Entrance is free and everyone's welcome. </div>
Sian Thomashttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14777626768711738619noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5096402002848160090.post-59830924173954609692017-11-20T16:46:00.000+00:002017-11-20T16:46:04.293+00:00Reading at Lumen, Tavistock Place<span style="background-color: white;"><span style="color: #1d2129; font-family: SF Optimized, system-ui, -apple-system, BlinkMacSystemFont, .SFNSText-Regular, sans-serif;"><span style="letter-spacing: -0.11999999731779099px;"></span></span></span><br />
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<span style="color: #1d2129; font-family: SF Optimized, system-ui, -apple-system, BlinkMacSystemFont, .SFNSText-Regular, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">Photograph by Nick Kane</span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #1d2129; font-family: SF Optimized, system-ui, -apple-system, BlinkMacSystemFont, .SFNSText-Regular, sans-serif;"><span style="text-align: start;">Tomorrow evening I will be reading at Lumen, 88 Tavistock Place, London. Doors open at around 6.30pm and the reading will take place under the banner of Agenda Poetry. I will be in fine company, reading alongside Timothy Ades, Patricia McCarthy, Sam Milne, Jess Mookherjee and Shaun Trainer, and poets from the floor will also be welcome. The event will be run by Ruth O'Callaghan, under the wing of Andrew Motion, and funds raised will benefit homeless people. </span></span></div>
Sian Thomashttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14777626768711738619noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5096402002848160090.post-119115411365545592017-10-24T09:30:00.001+01:002017-10-24T09:30:37.061+01:00Filmpoem Festival, Lewes <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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On Saturday I'll be in Lewes, doing this. It looks amazing. Come if you're close. Sian Thomashttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14777626768711738619noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5096402002848160090.post-26879746538625039262017-06-20T11:11:00.002+01:002017-06-20T11:11:59.833+01:00Seventy Answers <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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I've come to a pause in typing up Seven Answers. I need to draw some more initials, which takes time, and recently I don't seem to have had much of that. There are still more replies to publish, although the end is in sight, and soon I'll have to decide what next. <br />
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It's been fun so far. I didn't read all the replies when I first received them, so I've discovered a lot of lovable new voices and interesting stories. The process of typing them up has been a delight too: I've felt close to each writer as I've typed, a feeling I used to enjoy when I was young, copying my favourite poems by hand so I could stick them on my walls or give them to friends. <br />
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Sometimes I've encountered editing dilemmas. I've cut a few passages in order to tighten the replies and I've corrected a few spelling and punctuation mistakes. On the whole though I've tried to keep my interfering fingers to myself and let each person speak. I've also removed some references to people and places that I thought might make a writer recognisable, but here again I've tried to do as little as possible. <br />
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And now spring's become summer and tomorrow will be the solstice. When I started typing up the replies the first primroses were coming into flower, now my garden's full of roses and there are still a few more replies to come. Sian Thomashttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14777626768711738619noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5096402002848160090.post-21065138429015334642017-05-30T10:23:00.001+01:002017-05-30T10:23:36.400+01:00An Encounter(I found this fragment stapled to another set of replies. There might be more of it somewhere else, but it's rather nice as it is).<br />
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He likes the same music as me... who'd have thought it! Another trance, folk, world-music, poppy freak in the world. He seems interesting and interested - rather than just taking about himself. Unfortunately, and unusually, he doesn't drink, having stopped a few months ago after looking in the mirror one morning after. Still, no one seems to be perfect. <br />
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All in all, a really enjoyable and romantic evening. And yes, hopefully we will meet again[...]Sian Thomashttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14777626768711738619noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5096402002848160090.post-67083782730860826132017-05-30T10:15:00.001+01:002017-05-30T10:15:33.219+01:00A LieI'd like to tell you about the time I arranged for someone to steal my ex-boyfriend's car and drive it into the sea; revenge for the hours he spent telling me about how camshafts work and my disappointment that the excitement he obviously felt telling me about car engines didn't last the distance from the garage to the bedroom. I'd like to tell you that, but it wouldn't be true. What is true is that I used to pretend for hours that I was really interested because I wanted him to sleep with me. Sian Thomashttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14777626768711738619noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5096402002848160090.post-11798582770828555042017-05-30T10:08:00.000+01:002017-05-30T10:08:12.095+01:00A Memory(This isn't my memory. Like all my recent posts it's one of <a href="http://wealdwife.blogspot.co.uk/2017/02/seven-answers.html" target="_blank">Seven Answers</a>). <br />
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I can remember waking up in my cot and wanting people to come. But they were all still asleep [...], even my sister who slept in a bed, so I stood up by holding onto the wooden white painted rails and boinged my Humpty Dumpty up and down with the hand I wasn't holding on with.<br />
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After a long time my mum or dad would come and let me out, or my sister would get out of her bed and come over to chat and play. I don't think she was able to open the cot front and release me. <br />
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I still have the Humpty Dumpty, he is Chad Valley, about the size of a big Easter egg and made of very faded and worn pink and blue velvet. The elastic for boinging him up and down tore off a few decades ago. Sian Thomashttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14777626768711738619noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5096402002848160090.post-15144311960571191632017-05-30T09:53:00.001+01:002017-05-30T09:53:12.373+01:00A Fear and a WishDeepest fear: moths.<br />
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Deepest wish: to stay happy and loved.Sian Thomashttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14777626768711738619noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5096402002848160090.post-84441935672537091712017-05-24T11:08:00.000+01:002017-05-24T11:08:02.093+01:00An EncounterRecently I went to see a band with my girl friends. It was a fun night and the music was rock covers so we could all sing along and spill beer down our arms. I pushed down to the front and positioned us right in front of the band. [...] I could feel someone looking at me and turned to the left where I locked eyes with a very, very good-looking guitarist. He had green eyes and we had one of those stares where you both dare each other to stop looking first but you can't. One of those stares that make you want to drop to your knees in front of him. <br />
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I broke the gaze eventually and looked at my friends who were both wide-eyed. 'What was that?!' they mouthed and I fanned my red face with my hand. <br />
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The rest of the gig it was hard to take my eyes off him. It was clear that we fancied each other and he even sang along to some of the lyrics while he was staring at me.<br />
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After the gig I tapped him on the back and he turned round; his green eyes again. I said, 'I have two questions for you. One, was the cute girl standing next to me your girlfriend?'<br />
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'Yes.'<br />
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'Oh, OK.'<br />
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'What's the second question?' he asked.<br />
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'That doesn't matter now.' Pause. Then in my beery bravado I said, 'You would though, wouldn't you?' and he said that I should come to the gig next Saturday and he would guarantee that she wouldn't be there. <br />
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I didn't go, but I did think about it. Sian Thomashttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14777626768711738619noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5096402002848160090.post-868058760548633242017-05-15T15:55:00.002+01:002017-05-15T15:55:44.965+01:00A HouseI spent most of my childhood in a bungalow in the countryside. Originally it wasn't particularly big but my father built an extension on to it, comprising a dining room and spare room/study. He also built a double garage to one side. But the garden was my home - I had a camp at the end of it with a rope ladder and hammock, and I created lots of little cycle paths around all the flower beds. <br />
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In the house my favourite place was the attic - it seemed that there was an endless supply of treasure up there: dressing-up clothes, including Mum's wedding dress; a lime green ostrich-trimmed flapper number; a red and white Hawaiian dress; then boxes of old Victorian postcards; naval memorabilia and so on. <br />
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My other favourite place to go to on a Saturday morning before everyone else was up was the dog basket, squeezing in with our beagle, even occasionally eating his biscuits. Sian Thomashttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14777626768711738619noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5096402002848160090.post-49076925596657415112017-05-11T11:16:00.000+01:002017-05-11T11:16:24.895+01:00An ExperienceA near-death experience on a retreat in a mountain village. One week of silence and twelve hours of sitting meditation in a largely unheated monastery of sorts, end of January. Four days in, I'm nearing a psychological meltdown and start having palpitations that get so bad that I ask for an ambulance. It takes about half-an-hour to get there and all this time I'm telling myself to just hang on, breathe, the medics will come and sort me out. But when they do they just hook me up to an EEG thing that beeps along with my heart and stand there, defibrillators in hand, saying that they can't give me any med's as it would be too dangerous. I guess what I learned there and then is that ultimately your life is in your hands alone, that if you don't muster the will to live, nobody can do it for you. I still have the printout of my heart-curve, it looks like a blueprint for a roller coaster; a good-luck charm of sorts. Sian Thomashttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14777626768711738619noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5096402002848160090.post-8622218302010568102017-05-11T11:06:00.000+01:002017-05-11T11:06:47.723+01:00A Dream<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7Cy2E0OJInAGeF7ouRVSkIYStFLO1TN2JuSdDxm6SR-OZaJ6jL_gKX4WQU8iz0CU7LJ0lzgXVSO-GbRD6DZwqluJCo260Jd0RR2Ux6YvTD5G9RLBeJmjr4So1RTNQvFdfzzP-FpL3Nlas/s1600/Blog+I+x+2+2017.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7Cy2E0OJInAGeF7ouRVSkIYStFLO1TN2JuSdDxm6SR-OZaJ6jL_gKX4WQU8iz0CU7LJ0lzgXVSO-GbRD6DZwqluJCo260Jd0RR2Ux6YvTD5G9RLBeJmjr4So1RTNQvFdfzzP-FpL3Nlas/s200/Blog+I+x+2+2017.png" width="197" /></a> dreamt I was being a drag queen for the first time, getting changed in a public toilet when my ex-partner from 2010 walked past looking fit and healthy but completely oblivious to who I was. </div>
<br />Sian Thomashttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14777626768711738619noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5096402002848160090.post-65622654698581037692017-05-04T15:23:00.000+01:002017-05-04T15:23:44.598+01:00A Crime or TwoDrink driving; drug dealing and taking; stealing from my place of work; drug smuggling. Sian Thomashttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14777626768711738619noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5096402002848160090.post-24870274127755658192017-05-04T15:19:00.000+01:002017-05-04T15:19:58.919+01:00A Memory(This isn't my memory. Like all my recent posts it's one of <a href="http://wealdwife.blogspot.co.uk/2017/02/seven-answers.html" target="_blank">Seven Answers</a>).<br />
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I must have been about four years old. I was riding my bicycle which had three wheels. I loved my bicycle. But while I was outside, riding around the car park which served the houses in our lane, the police came and took my bicycle away. This event happened just after my earliest ever memory. I was in my home with my mother and the police knocked at the door. Somehow they came inside. My mother pushed me behind her back as the police entered our living room, two of them, and my mother picked up a glass bottle from the table, smashed the end off and brandished it at the police to make sure they didn't come closer. It was me they wanted, but they didn't take me that day. It was the following day when they came again, when I was outside with my bicycle. Sian Thomashttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14777626768711738619noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5096402002848160090.post-68996534102638912122017-05-03T10:23:00.001+01:002017-05-03T10:23:41.171+01:00A Wish I have always wished that I could fly. I dream about it often - just a slight pliƩ and a certain wriggle of the shoulders and spread of fingers and I am in the air, effortless and easy, gravity having no hold on me. I have wished it ever since I was a child, on every new moon and every falling star, when I should have been wishing for practical things like a proper job or a functioning car or a non-dysfunctional family... But I always wish for flight. I have no fear of heights - I have always known what the world looks like from above, long before I was ever in an airplane. Sian Thomashttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14777626768711738619noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5096402002848160090.post-1102338879828478642017-05-02T09:41:00.001+01:002017-05-02T09:41:18.569+01:00An Encounter[...] I was walking to college one day with my friend and we were busy talking when this boy came towards us that my friend knew. He and I just stopped and started at each other with eyes like saucers and our mouths open, it was a very peculiar feeling and my friend found it hysterical. I had never seen anything so beautiful, he was tall, cinnamon-coloured and had hair like a gypsy. He was exotic and delicious and I had never encountered anyone like this in the miserable town where we lived. <br />
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I didn't any longer go to the college but as I was kicking around not dong much I used to go in with my friend sometimes. After the stare-off I did get to meet him again outside a classroom and I sat on the edge of a table swinging my legs like a child and eating crisps while he painted an extremely awful portrait of me. <br />
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We ended up going on a sort of date, although I already had a boyfriend. The friend, myself and him all went to the pub together and then she left us an we agreed to meet up that evening back in the pub. I don't remember the time of year, it wasn't winter but it was colourless, cold, damp and dismal. <br />
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We wove our way back to his house in the dark in the early evening with a storm chasing our heels and a cheap pizza and wine. His flat was on the seafront, the waves were crashing up over the barriers and by the time we reached the entrance we were windswept and soaked, which added to the romance. I knew nothing about him and he seemed to be a bit of a loner, but it never occurred to me not to go off with him on my own. <br />
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His flat was minute and sparse and seemed to be in a retirement block, which was an odd place for a 20 year old to live, I think he had inherited it. His artwork was all over the walls, it was bad, childish and unconsidered in its approach and the subject mater was wolves, monsters and men devouring women. In his tiny bedroom he had an array of weapons on his windowsill: knives and equipment used for martial arts. <br />
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We got even more drunk, ate the pizza and ballroom-danced around the flat to Pyscho Killer. We stood out on the balcony and watched the sea roaring, it felt desperately romantic and as we were so high up it looked as if the sea was directly below us and we were right out in it. <br />
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I never got to meet my friend that evening, but I also never saw him again, his deliciousness was offset by an attentiveness that gave me the creeps. When I think back I am not sure if he was a really lovely man and I was too young to appreciate the potential or he was a complete weirdo - sometimes there's a fine line. Sian Thomashttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14777626768711738619noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5096402002848160090.post-38261273998554205282017-04-28T10:20:00.003+01:002017-04-28T10:20:39.084+01:00A House(This house isn't mine; it's one of <a href="http://wealdwife.blogspot.co.uk/2017/02/seven-answers.html" target="_blank">Seven Answers</a>). <br />
<br />
The house which was most important to me as a child is the house I still live in. It is ramshackle and not well built, but it is my one and only real home. I am the fourth generation of my family to live here. The bungalow was featured in the Ideal Home exhibition of 1927. However, recently a surveyor suggested that the best thing to do with it was to knock it down! <br />
<br />
I didn't knock it down but instead replaced the roof, windows and doors and covered the attic with insulation. Soon I will paint the walls inside and out and give it anything else it needs. <br />
<br />
On a warm summer's evening I walk through the wildflower lawn in my garden towards my house and think of the beginning of the film <i>Howard's End</i>. Of course I should mention the book first, but it is the image of the actress which I recall, walking around her house, her long dress sweeping the grass. Both the character and actress's names escape me and don't seem very relevant since I become the character when I was the sequence. Her feelings for Howard's End are my feelings for my house. Sian Thomashttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14777626768711738619noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5096402002848160090.post-19742678133665997712017-04-27T09:01:00.001+01:002017-04-27T09:01:56.306+01:00A HouseMy aunt and uncle's house was a great place to visit when I was a boy. For a start it was three storey, and with a loft conversion too - it felt like a maze. Loads of stairs to run up and down and rooms to explore. It was always warm and full of people and animals and the smell of cookery, and noise. My uncle collected jukeboxes, slot machines, BorgWarner cars and flintlock pistols. There were big black and white 1950s posters and old adverts and rockabilly paraphernalia. If I asked for a whisky and lemonade at the age of twelve I got a pint. They had a black cat called Martha and a revolving line-up of other cats who would stay for a couple of years, sleeping on the old towels on top of the boiler, before moving on. Chaotic, but in a loving sort of way. I thought it was great.Sian Thomashttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14777626768711738619noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5096402002848160090.post-37868463894200917662017-04-27T08:51:00.001+01:002017-04-27T08:51:53.919+01:00An ExperienceI lost my lovely auburn hair when I was 33 years old. Most of it fell out when I was out shopping with my young daughter. This made me feel inferior to other women, which led to self-loathing. 36 years later I still have these feelings. Sian Thomashttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14777626768711738619noreply@blogger.com0