It’s too hot to be out for most of the day, so I take the dogs out earlyish. Walking too early can be problematic because there are still lots of wild animals about, so we wait until 8.30 when the night folk will be hidden away.
I stick to the lane when I’m alone, where the risk of distractions is less. Even at midday there are rabbits and deer about at the edge of the fields…
though Redmond often has to wait patiently while Bix investigates every grasshopper, lizard and mouse he sees in the ditch.
The woods at the side of the lane are full of interesting ‘things’.
and the edge of the corn field at the bottom of the hill is a favourite hang-out for wild boar.
The meadows still look pretty, but the earth is bone dry and so fissured it’s hard to walk across.
Even the north side of the house is mainly dry stalks, but the chicory flowers still manage to make a picture.
It’s seven years since we adopted Finbar. For seven years he has lived in town; his domain is bounded by the garden and stops at the front door. Every morning he has to be forced out of the house to go for a walk which isn’t a city pavement walk, it’s along the river and through the gardens where he has a whole pack of friends. Still, he has to be dragged out, trembling, because he’s afraid I won’t bring him back again. Now he has discovered Tamberlan, the farm named for some very mysterious reason after the Mogul emperor of Marlowe’s play.
Finbar now has a lot of meadow to call his own, and a small road that luckily only sees about six cars a day go past and a few walkers at the weekend. Because he has to charge over to them, barking just to let them know who’s field this is, and I have to go out and apologise. It’s a great way to meet people.
So now, he wants to be outside all the time, and when I say, time to go inside…