Sunday 13th March 2016

Saturday

We woke up at six with the sun about to rise, or that would take some imagination to see that event, as all of St Maggies was wreathed in thick fog. However, the soon to be risen sun was already having an effect, and within half an hour the houses the other side of the dip were visible, and above us, the sky if not blue, had a blue tinge.

We do the usual early morning stuff, but due to me being away again, this time from lunchtime on Sunday, there was no need for shopping, so we had coffee, breakfast, another coffee, got dressed then decided to go for a walk to the cliffs. I know that you know the route by now, and we saw nothing new or surprising, but with the light everchanging, as the mist, as it was by nine, creating soft pastel shades which would explode into vibrant colour as the gentle breeze blew the mist apart, allowing the sun to fully break through.

One thing I can add is that the ground, though looking muddy as it was two weeks back, has firmed up, and my boots ended up cleaner art the end of the walk than at the start. Only horses seemed to have the weight to break through the drier ground to the softness underneath. So, walking across the field was no longer a slalom course in trying to find firm ground, we could enjoy the views rather than look for our next safe footstep. Past the butterfly copse, now shorn of all but the buddleias, meaning the spring shoots will not have to fight through the dead growth of last year.

Still no sign of the pigs in the copse, maybe there'll be a fresh batch in a few weeks? So, after snapping that known view over the downs to Kingsdown, we walk down the lane leading to the dip, through the mud at the bottom and up the steep track on the other side. Its warm, it feels like Spring. There is new growth everywhere, birds on the wing have nesting material in their beaks, and on the cliffs we even see a Small Tortoiseshell on the wing.

Along the cycle track and then taking the right fork over the downs to the Monument. We can't see as far as the golf course, but I'm sure that the golfers are out ruining a good walk. We have a good walk up tot he cliff edge, and find the air has the tang of seasalt. Looking over the edge we see it is low tide, and with there being so little wind, the sea is just lapping onto the beach and old chalk cliff falls.

Shall we get a drink, asks Jools? Bluebirds is open, and I am sure that the frsh batches of cakes and scones are ready. Jools goes in and comes out with drinks and generous slices of coffee and walnut cake. We sit at a picnic bench out in the grounds of the building, enjoying the warming sunshine and just a hint of a cooling breeze.

We retrace our steps back down over the felds, down the dip, up the other side and then back along the path to home. Arriving back at twenty past twelve, just in time for me to make a brew and settle down to listen to City play Citeh at the Carra. After a slow start, we match the billionaires, and run out with a 0-0 draw, only the second game this season where we have no conceded a goal. But we are still deep in the clag, but with hope. Next two home games are against our nearest rivals, these will decide if we have a chance of surviving. Or not.

For the rest of the afternoon there is football on the radio, Rugby on TV and food on the table, always a good mix. England beat Wales, and now just have to win against France next week to claim the Grand Slam. And it was a good game too, with a stunning fightback from France, just failing in the final seconds to overtake England. Oh well.

It was the night of the final episodes of "Trapped", and it rounded the series off very well indeed. These past four Saturday evenings have been enjoyable, although it was hard keeping track of all the characters with the odd names, and pronounced very different from how they were spoken.