We tried to ignore the fat that there was an attractive layer of mist all the way along the M20, and how bloody photogenic it was. So, we headed northwards, then along the M25 until the sat-nav told us to turn off. It directed us through various boroughs, through woods, up and down hills and in time, into Richmond.
The car park was quite empty, and so we parked up, picked up the camera gear and headed off in search of deer. Through a gate, along a path through trees and rhododendrons, out the other side and we were confronted by a fine sight of a huge open space filled with ferns, mist just visible in the golden light. And breaking the silence was the occasional HOOOOM. This, as it turned out, was the randy male deer. Their calls echoed around the park, and as we looked we could see antlers showing above the ferns, and as we walked into the wood, watchful faces could be seen.
We took our shots, then moved off towards two large ornamental lakes away to our left. On the way, we saw more deer out in the open, and we decided to follow. They were moving to a pool amongst some trees on the edge of another wood. We stood and watched as deer after deer entered the clearing and climbed into the pool to wallow in the mud. There were some confrontations, with males locking antlers and looking pretty angry. After locking horns, they would glare at each other and bellow HOOOOOM.
To add to the surreal nature of looking at this activity, bright green parakeets swooped down from the trees squawking loudly. These have escaped from people’s homes, and have made their homes in the trees of west London, and seem to be very much happy. Quite how our native birds feel about this is not clear.
After a while we move on, but although we see many other deer, none as close as around the pool, and as more folks arrived, we headed back to the car and then back home.
As I have said before, there is little pleasure from driving on the British motorway network, but it is stressful and a relief when we get back into Kent and head back down towards the coast. And the traffic got lighter, and all the while we had the sounds of Radio 5 blaring out, chirping out funny stuff to entertain us.
And we were back home by half twelve, and I was sitting in front of the computer checking shots soon after one, listening to the radio as the football got underway. I did, however, fall asleep during the main commentary, and I did not know the results until I got round to watching MOTD on Sunday.
We spent the evening watching Smiley’s People, which is as gripping as TTSS, but with higher production values. Due to issues with the cats being hungry at three or four in the morning, we locked them out of the bedroom and we slept long and deeply.
Sunday morning, like most have been recently, dawned clear and bright. After breakfast we put on our walking shoes and headed off for a walk along the lanes around where we live. The fields have all been harvested and ploughed and now harrowed. The hedgerows are full of fruit, but we have picked our share, made jams, jellies and wine, and now leave the rest for the birds.
We see some butterflies, basking on south-facing plants; I snap them and we move on.
It is always a thrill to come to the cliff edge, and see the ground fall away to the breaking waves on the beach below.
Once back home we sit in the back garden drinking coffee and eating crumbly French cakes. Life is still good!
And then comes the afternoon and I lay on the sofa to watch the televised game, the spectacle that is QPR v Aston Villa; and it’s a real stinker, Villa offer nothing and yet take the lead due to an awful penalty decision by the ref. And the game got a better finale than it deserved as Rangers get a last minute equaliser, and I think about writing to Sky to get my 90 minutes back. I cook roast leg of lamb with all the trimmings, and then we slump to watch another episode of Smiley’s People.
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