Perambulatory Ponderings; or An Addled Amble

Today I went for a walk.

Prepare yourself for many pointless pictures.

But first: a map. Aren't maps great? They're less great once I've scribbled on them badly in Paint.


My route, obviously, is shown in blue (the first and last ten minutes to get to that roundabout have been omitted purely to infuriate my stalkers - I like a dangerous life). It should be noted that I had no route when I set out: I just took whichever paths presented themselves. With the result, as may be seen, that I ended up walking back through a suburb. Ah well.

But first of all, after pulling on a fetching woolly hat and stepping out into the chilly blue day, there was the walk out through Markeaton Park. A prettyish little place, which I took some photos of once before intending to post them here, but then never did.

In Britain, one must always feed ducks. Even if they are in fact canada geese, and even if you're freezing standing there - ignore the snow, it can't possibly be cold if the sun is out.


Okay, that's the only photo I took in the park on the way out, so moving on: I followed the Bonnie Prince Charlie Walk (why? I mean I know Derby was as far south as he got, but I highly doubt that while he was here he went for a walk through some fields) until it landed me in a rather boring little village, whereupon I struck off on my own on the first footpath I found. Which, as it turned out, was incredibly difficult to walk on, thanks to the just-melted and copious mud. But a British walk wouldn't be a walk if there was no mud.

Look - a double hedgerow, like that one in Persuasion. Now all I need is an ex-lover who can walk along it and talk about me (while getting his feet muddy).


As I walked on, I pondered many things. Things such as how very green grass can be; my slight guilt at walking past a church on a Sunday; swiftly followed by a resolution that I was not going to start debating faith with myself while out for a walk; how much I like the way that walkers always smile at each other and say hello; how gorgeous even the simplest food tastes when you're outside and have done exercise; whether my muscles should really ache as much as they were doing after only an hour's walking; and how a cow byre can smell so repulsive and yet so wholesome all at the same time.

Plus other, more photographic things such as where were these two planes going and why was one trying so hard to catch the other up...


...how very pretty old English farmhouses can be...


...indeed, just how very English the countryside looked...


...and how beautiful deciduous trees can be even in winter.


I also had occasion to ponder why it is that I never remember to charge my camera up before expecting to use it. Luckily, it kept itself alive, but with many complaints.

I amused myself for a whole two seconds at this point with the thought 'two roads diverged in a cabbage patch...'


But sadly I was all-too-soon back in civilisation (no snarky comments from the Southerners, please), where I gained many odd looks. I am choosing to believe these were due purely to the muddiness of my shoes and trousers.


I decided suburban people weren't worth worrying about, and confined myself merely to horror at the fearsome sight of the snowdrop army having infiltrated even such a respectable neighbourhood as Allestree. Sadly, however, none of the photos I took of this atrocity came out worthwhile (I suspect sabotage). However, we should not allow ourselves to fear, for the Catkin Resistance has them thoroughly occupied for the moment.


Then back into Markeaton Park, where once again there were hundreds of Brits making up for the dullness of our island by forcing ourselves to enjoy it despite that. These two kites were a Swiss aeroplane and a rather impressive dragon - both controlled by rather small children, and both kamikazed rather spectacularly shortly after I took this photo.


Final photo of the day, as the blue sky finally succumbed to the big grey cloud spreading from the west - maybe it's my job getting to me, but aren't narrow-gauge steam trains cute?


And then it was time for a short walk back to my flat, a long drink (non-alcoholic), some hot cheese & bacon soup (mmm) and a nice bath to attempt to pretend I wasn't so unfit that a two and a half hour walk stretched my muscles.

*yawns*