It would have been nice to sleep all day, but with an empty fridge and larder, the only answer was to head to Tesco for the usual battle. But, either the rest of the town was laying in or kidnapped by aliens. Whatever the reason, we got our stuff and were loading the checkout in about ten minutes. Back home for more coffee and croissants, and then to ponder what to do with the day.
I had hoped to be able to head to Folkestone with Jools when she did her beading class, but the clouds never cleared and the rain drizzled down. So, I stayed home and pottered. Pottered means listening to the radio and messing around with editing photographs. My allergy was quite happy with this, and so together we sat and whiled the day away. When Jools got back we had beefsteak tomato and mozzarella drizzled with olive oil. The two glasses of red wine I had at the same time went down very well.
Sunday morning we actually did lay in until nearly HALF PAST SEVEN. Wow, rock, and indeed, roll. And after breakfast we headed out to Kings Wood. Well, it is the time of year for fungi, and with all the rain this year the wood would be jam-packed with the little buggers wouldn't it?
In a word, no.
But first, the mist.
Yes, the mist. As we drove out of Ashford, the mist began to close in; but as the road climbed, the rose above the mist. Just as we entered the thickest part of the wood, we were treated to a glimpse of the valleys and dips below filled with mist. We both thought the same thing, find a place to overlook this scene. We turned off and went past the car park, through the wood until we came to a smaller car park. We stopped off and trotted off down the road, risking life and limb with the prospect of oncoming cars ploughing into us.
But this is photography, goddammit.
Jools thought she would make her way through a small copse, and I went along the road further. I came to a gate at the end of a small avenue through the trees, and was treated to a fine view as the ground slipped away from where I stood, past a small herd of confused looking sheep and into the mist below. It was all white from a few hundred yards away all the way to the sea. With the occasional tree or house sticking up.
A splendid sight.
Anyways, we got our shot and headed back to the wood. I made for where the fly agarics usually were, and there was nothing. It was the same in the large clearing where the fungi usually crowd round at the edge. All the time, I could hear dogs barking, children running and laughing. As I walked back I passed at least three groups of foragers, baskets in hand, planning to look for autumnal delicacies. Another group, some 25 strong, made up of parents, children and dogs running loose. I was glad to be leaving.
In the future we must ensure we are here at dawn this time of year so we have the place to ourselves. Or we could go somewhere else.
Back to the coast and to Deal to inspect the new sea defences. Yes, really.
All along the beach there are diggers and excavators shoring up the beach, but sure as chips is chips, long-shore drift will have its day. I got my shots, then went to No Name Shop to buy some stinky cheese, only to find it has joined the record shop and the bookshop in the great High Street in the sky.
In the afternoon, I mowed the lawn, and did more pottering which consisted of pretty much as it did on Saturday.
Quite how we cope with the pace of life these days is the question on everyone’s lips……
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