Early this morning Jackie drove me into the forest.
We aimed to take our normal route along Holmsley Passage which had been closed for four days from the 21st. The signs from the entrance beside the A35 had been lowered so we merrily sped down the winding, undulating, lane, only to find barriers at the halfway point. There were indications that some patching of the eroded edges of the tarmac had been begun, but nothing was happening today. This is not an unusual phenomenon but we had travelled hopefully. I photographed the woodland beside the carpark, beyond which we could not continue.
We backtracked and deviated over the newly repaired bridge on the A337.
Outside Burley we came across some curious cows
and their quizzical calves merging with woodland foliage and browning bracken.
The size of fallen oak leaves among the grass beneath the trees gives perspective to a string of very small, almost imperceptible, mushrooms
near larger fungi, some of which had provided breakfast on the hoof.
This afternoon I made further headway with Richardson’s “Clarissa”.
We dined this evening on a rack of pork spare ribs; hot and spicy and tempura prawn preparations; and Jackie’s flavoursome savoury rice, with which Jackie drank Hoegaarden, I finished the Comté Tolosan Rouge, and Flo and Dillon drank fruit cordial.