Lifestyle versus Life : my daily walk

Every day. Around the mountain. Around 5kms. 3.8kms if I’m in a hurry and I cut out the lower fire trail section.

And I am sure I will cherish these memories one day. This photo will be my aide memoire.

That is the lifestyle shot. A pretty field of wheat on the slopes of our mountain.

There is plenty of variety on my walk. I get an uphill easy bit on the little road for about a kilometre, then up to the col, around the back of the mountain on a rocky fire trail through the forest.

Then back to the south side of the mountain with a gorgeous view over the village on the other side of the valley, and then back along our forest path to the farm. Very uphill.

But sometimes the plans for getting in a good brisk walk get thwarted.

It has to be brisk as I have way too much to do before the blasted heat and this time out is precious, but indulgent.

First the cat insisted on coming with me. In the heat of summer she is quite frisky early.

But 2kms of frolicking in the forest is her limit and I don’t want her to follow me onto the first part of the walk – the road.

Early in the morning a few cars actually drive past.

So I had to walk her back. She crept behind me almost all the way down to the letter box before I noticed her determined trot. So we went back up to the house. Food bowl replenished, while she was distracted I raced out.

And it was a good thing she wasn’t on the road as two removal trucks (from Bretagne, most intriguing) roared up the road.

Why do I know that? Because I was trying to remember their vans when I saw one them lob rubbish out the window on the way up.

Bastards! This is the most amazing litter-free pristine part of the country. Rubbish on the road is so rare. And there I was picking up not just a fag packet, but an empty coke can and a melting Mars bar wrapper too.

Fuming I had to make a detour further up the road to deposit them in the community bins.

Of course I was holding out the offending articles in front of me hoping that a local neighbour would come past and stop and we could lament the dreadful state of other people’s bad habits. But all was quiet.

I dialled down my ire after the bins and started to walk back to my route as I saw that this shot of the wheat was fetching and I don’t often see it from this angle.

So that cheered me up.

And just when I got into a good lope around the back fire trail the mountain miscreants blocked my path. 

Lifestyle shot!

Real life? Oh no! The damn horses have broken out of their paddock. Again. There was no way I could just push past them as they would have trotted right behind me all the way. Begging for food.

And Colleen’s foal… she has teensy, tiny teeth. And she loves to bite.

So I walked them back to their enclosure, fending off some pretty determined biting foal moments all the way.

My walk? Finally I got to lope back the way I wanted.

But I was now late. The day was heating up to blast furnace temperatures and it was hardly a quiet reflective start to my day.

Except I composed this blog post as I stomped. So it wasn’t entirely wasted.

But I could have done with a quieter start.