STROLLING: Flanagan & Allen
Strolling, just strolling,
In the cool of the evening air,
I don’t envy the rich in their automobiles,
For a motor car is phoney.
I’d rather have Shanks’s pony,
When I’m strolling,
With the light of the moon above,
Ev’ry night I go out strolling,
And I know my luck is rolling,
When I’m strolling with the one I love.
Aah, the council organised, Wednesday walks are back on. How I’ve missed them.
From April to October between thirty and 50 intrepid walkers, and me, meet up in all weathers once a week to explore the hidden wonders of lovely Lancashire.
Tonight was week three. These walks are advertised as ‘a stressbusting two hour walk at a brisk pace.’
Brisk? A moderately paced jog is more like it – and strolling doesn’t even come into it. As for strolling with the one I love – it’d kill him!
There has been a definite improvement in my fitness levels though since I first started to do these walks, three years ago. Now I don’t feel like I am actually going to die as we race up every hill the walk leader can find, and I don’t often have to stop for a breather.
Tonight we covered five and a half miles and it was magbloodynificent!
The bluebells carpeted the floor of the woods, the sun sparkled through the trees and off the water of the reservoir, the birds sang and the overall effect was that there was just a hint of magic in the air. Half expecting to see a fairy peeping out from a mossy tree stump I walked enchanted through the magic wood and was sad to leave it behind as we climbed up the hill back on to the moors.
Sometimes it’s just about perfect. Sigh.
It’d be fantastic if I had half a dozen lovely photographs to show you but we don’t have time to stop. Loiterers get left behind. I did snatch a couple of photos on my phone and then had to run to catch up with everyone else as they disappeared into the distance.
So I don’t have a lot of photos from tonight’s walk but I do have a few photos from the photo shoot I did for my friend and neighbour the other day. The puppy is about nine weeks old and is a cross between a belgian Shepherd and German Shepherd. He’s going to be gorgeous later. He’s already quite gorgeous now.
The border collie is Mrs Woofy’s bezzie mate. I don’t know why as she took a chunk out of her last week which resulted in visits to the vet’s and lots of money changing hands.