My brother gave me my first hiking sticks last week and I pumped off into Beaulieu and the New Forest in blustery squally weather today to give them a try. There’s a rhythm that’s required to master the whole thing, not dissimilar from skiing. Okay, I wasn’t great at skiing, but they were a help when slipping on muddy slopes and sinking along the marshes.
They are also handy when being attacked by wild donkeys…
(Note: No donkeys were injured in making this photo)
It was a good ramble: there were a fair number of people out and the sheep’s milk ice cream was fresh. The changing light meant lots of interesting ways to try to construct new compositions (the photography book also a gift).
The watery moors outside of town were low and windswept, ponds reflecting the the changing skies and emerging brush. Grazing horses dotted the landscape; the silence was blissful. The diversion into the woods turned into an extended meander south across the landscape: drive a little, walk a little, click a little.
And eat /drink a little when an interesting café appeared.