A Tale from Lucky Bob

One of the pleasures of wandering and traveling the country lanes is finding a like minded soul and exchanging a tale or two. A few years ago I was working in an office in south Lincolnshire for a couple of days a week, it was there I was introduced to Lucky Bob. A that time Bob was approaching his retirement age and was one of those people who I tend to think of as a true gentleman. He was friendly, polite and professional but also had a razor sharp wit and a perceptive mind ensuring he was nobodies fool. Although he had not been blessed with the best of luck in his earlier life, it seemed fortune had begun to smile on him over the previous few years and had even won three significant wins on European lotteries setting himself up nicely for his oncoming retirement. He continued to work because he enjoyed it and he was good at it.

Realising we both had travelled the rural lanes on many occasions (Bob was often driving, where as I have a preference for walking) we began to chat and exchange experiences, I will now pass on a little tale he told me, this has brightened a few peoples days over the years when I have recounted it, I hope it does for you. For me it proves that wealth does not mean worth. I hope Bob is now retired to his cottage in France and is enjoying both red wine and fine company.

Working freelance, Bob had often to take contracts in offices some distance from his home. He tried to make his journeys as enjoyable as he could to avoid the scrum of driving in the rush hour traffic and the scenic routes were a welcome break from the nose to tail driving. He recalled that one such morning many years ago (in the time when mobile phones were not affordable almost all of the population) he was winding his way down a country lane, enjoying the peace and freedom of a quiet road before a day in a warm office. He glanced in his mirror to see a car in the distance behind him and thinking nothing of it he carried on driving as he felt was safe for the road. A few moments later he glanced in his mirror again and realised the vehicle behind him was closing fast and must surely be traveling well in excess of the 60mph speed limit of the road. Feeling a little wary of the driver behind him he carried on, deciding to maintain his speed just has he would if the driver was not there.

Within seconds his rear view mirror was filled with the sight of an expensive Jaguar car just a couple of feet from his back bumper  and snaking around in the lane to try and overtake. Bob carried on keeping one eye on the mirror wondering what the driver behind must be in such a rush for. Again he kept to his speed and within his lane deciding the driver would overtake when it was safe to do so. The lane weaved its way towards a sharp blind corner and Bob slowed his speed as any normal driver would. The roar of engine noise behind him became deafening, glancing into his mirror Bob was horrified to see the driver behind had lost both patience and reason. He started to overtake on the blind corner, the next moments felt like an eternity as the Jaguar rounded the corner on the wrong side of the road and with no possibility of getting back into lane without colliding with Bobs car. Luckily for both Bob and the other driver there was no oncoming traffic and in a squeal of tires and smoke the Jaguar found its way in front and back into the correct lane before accelerating off into the distance.

Bob was left shaking with adrenaline as the danger passed. He was also left opened mouthed by the recklessness of the Jaguar driver, if another vehicle had been coming the other way, they would have been lucky if any of them had survived. A few deep breaths and a shake of the head helped him regain his composure and he carried on his way thankful to be in one piece.

The next few miles passed uneventfully until Bob could see something to chill the blood just off the road ahead. He pulled up at another steep corner to find the Jaguar wrecked in a hedge having crashed at some considerable speed. He switched his hazard lights on and leapt out expecting to find bodies among the wreckage. He was surprised to see a business man clearly shaken but apparently unhurt. "Oh my god, is there anybody else in there?" Bob asked. The business man replied "No", Bob looked about and could see no other vehicles or people what so ever. "Is there anybody else involved?" Bob asked. The business man shook his head "No, just me he replied,". Bob looked the man up and down before asking "And are you ok?". "Yes I am fine, its just the car that is wrecked," he answered.

Bob just smiled and said "Thats a pity," with that he climbed back into his own car, switched off the hazards and drove off leaving a stunned business man stranded in the middle of the countryside.

The Return of the White Shadows

Setting out in the late afternoon I find myself in a realm of colour, the red of the hawthorn berries against the yellow greens of the turning trees in the hedgerows and all against a backdrop of sky blue. The young rabbits are ever present at the edge of the long grass taking their chance to dash across the county lanes while flocks of sparrows flit along the edge of the fields taking their fill and making the best of the hedgerows cover from the threat of the sparrowhawks who seem to melt from sight in the taller trees until a careless bird strays too far from the safety of the flock and foliage.

As time passes and the sun lowers, the horizon takes it crimson hue, throwing long shadows as the air begins to cool. Fluttering wings of the kestrel portray a mastery of controlled flight, holding position over the ditches and field edge. Dipping and repositioning further down the lane after the land has been scoured by the piercing eyes of the little falcon. Across the field the vixen takes her turn to run, this rural predator shows no desire to raid close to the village before the cover of darkness.

Night draws in with soft steps and quiet miles, the breeze and gentle rustling of leaves fills the senses of hearing and touch as the blue fades to the horizon and the depths of space are revealed overhead. As my eyes adjust to the silvers, grey and black of the nightscape I am treated to the rising white form from the ditch further down the lane. The Barn Owl floats and drops on silent wings, they have been a rare and distant sight in the past summer but the cloudless evening and the harvesting of the small creatures has summoned them from their roosts to grace the darkness like white shadows.

Within the quiet of the land, the cycles of time, nature and light are turning in harmony.

Moon Drenched

Clouds anointed by the moons silver light passed slowly and silently overhead set against the stretching blackness of the night sky. We stopped on a timber bridge to drink in the sight of the mill pond before us, such a calm body of water under the full moon forms a spectacular pattern on the earth as if reflecting the entire cosmos and  laying it at our feet. A moving shadow and a gentle ripple declared the presence of a water bird, the ripples moved across the reflected face of the moon animating the reflection and serving as a reminder of the movement of life within the shadows and moonlight.

Leaning on the timber handrail for a moment I glanced into the darkness beneath the bridge. Within such blackness it seemed time itself had chosen to rest and a small portion of the world descended into an elemental stillness so rarely seen on this crowded isle. The timber bridges and the mill pond have been a sanctuary for us for many years, the turmoil of the day with the frictions of living close to many indifferent people always seem to melt away. I have often listened to people refer to the curtain of night and have found it a strange saying. Here the curtain seems to have been drawn back, before us in the sky and in the reflection is distance, space & time. Filling the senses and showing a depth of existence way beyond the blue skies of summer and the direct warming light of the sun. Where the sun brings light and life to wonderful aspects and landscapes, the darkness gently shows the true depths of the realm we live in.

The Uneasy Watchers

My recent wanders seem to have shown a different side to the woodlands from my usual peaceful meanderings after twilight. Arrangements and appointments have left me walking in the early morning and early evenings during daylight hours, with the light I decided to reacquaint myself with area of the wood I normally steer clear of. It would appear little has changed in the areas accessible by vehicles. A usual array of closely parked clandestine vehicles with shady sorts talking in hushed voices positioned themselves just off the car park road under cover of the tree canopy and foliage. Heads turned and conversations stopped as I passed by. One of the trees was adorned with the the word "weed" painted in red paint across its trunk and patches of fast food litter lay about where I suspect they had been cast from parked car windows.

Once away from the vehicles and road the serenity of the woods returned. The clatter of the wood pigeons wings was the only sound to raise itself above the gentle breeze in the trees, the shafts of sunlight seemed to shift and move in time with the movement of air. Many of the smaller paths had become choked with undergrowth leaving only the main paths clear and easily passible. I headed for a place where an old watch tower once stood but was disappointed to find only the rotten remains of its main structure ripped to the ground and scattered among the trees. On finally finding a clear small path I decided to change course and found myself treading carefully around deep tire ruts from heavy machinery which had long since passed by. At the paths end I appeared at a small car park deep within the woods. One vehicle positioned itself at the head of the car park, its owner gawping at me out of an open window with his head resonating with the battering of drum and base from a stereo possibly more powerful than the engine. I returned to the smaller tracks and made my way round and back in the direction of home.

Again the serenity of the woods returned to me like a welcome shroud, I found myself stepping over small fallen branches and ducking beneath the low canopy. One of my dog pack stopped to scoff a few blackberries from a trail side bramble, I have had the company of many dogs over the years but he has been the first to show me such a skill and never a cut mouth from the thorns close by the fruit. With the walk approaching an end I found the trail passing through a ditch. The summer had left the bottom of the ditch quite dry but the presence and arrangement of planks showed the footholds to avoid topping out a boot in the winter months. To the side a makeshift fence or handrail had been dug into the sides of the ditch. Standing in the bottom of the ditch it seemed the world was a silent place barely touched by the wind overhead, after enjoying the peace for a moment I carried on, back towards the car park area where stares and uneasy sideways glances would await my passing intrusion on in the world of the secretive and unwelcoming watchers.

A Key Within the Mind

I am rarely alone when I walk the woodland tracks at night, my dogs are good company and the breeze through the darkened leaves whispers gentle songs to flow around me as I make my way through nature's time and space. On occasion something malicious travels with me like a deranged creature muttering spiteful thoughts to interrupt the gentle songs on the breeze.

Last week I suffered one of these presences, normally as I walk the mutterings lessen as if it tires of following me and pales into insignificance beneath the sight of the stars, but not so this time. I stepped away from a life of corporate advancement many years ago when I realised I was becoming someone I did not like, but recent circumstances has pushed me back towards dealing with some of the personality types I used to come into contact with on a daily basis. Their office games and methods have pushed their way back into my work and I have found the thoughts clinging and lingering past the closing of the office doors.

As I wandered my thoughts would clear but were soon snapped back to dealing with issues that had no place within the woodlands. I could feel my anger growing both with the situation and with my inability to throw the thoughts from my mind and gain a little peace. I find an enraged mind is a little like a caged wild creature, it lashes out at those who stray close to the cage regardless of their intentions or well meanings. I decided it was time to deal with the issue and put things into perspective before those close to me could begin to suffer.

I walked with my pack and the demon within my mind to the western edge of the wood where the twilight from the sunken sun still set the horizon aglow and I stood beneath the canopy edge. As space, light and landscape stretched before me I began to gain a sense of the scale of the movement of planets and stars turning in space. I also began to flick through images and sounds within my mind to draw relevance to the scene before me, sounds seemed to fall into place to accompany the songs of the breeze and after a while a song I had enjoyed but not listened to for many years began to play (here is a link to the song, however I do believe that anyone else who searches for a song, text or image to gain a connection to the wider world and their place within space & time will have their own, and these will be of far more relevance to the person who searches them out) http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=u1pyvnw9Sko

As my mind became calmer and resonated, the thoughts that had previously plagued me faded and vanished. I was relived I had not looked for distraction from my own mind. The distractions of sports and entertainments seem to fill the minds of many I have worked with and they seem to reach a point of obsession as pressures grow, but for me distractions are short lived cures for my problems, to turn a key within the mind to gain connection and perspective brings a comprehension and steers me away from the "head in the sand" cure.

The Bones of a Shelter

With the storm clouds building overhead and the distant rumble of thunder passing across the woodland I stepped off the wide track and onto the woodland floor beneath the dense canopy of the conifers. The woodland floor was carpeted with fallen pine needles and lay barren of the undergrowth that flourished in other areas close by. Before me lay abandoned shelters, their framework resembled the exposed carcass of a long dead beast clustered around the tall trunks of the pine trees.

I walked amongst the structures as the first drops of rain tapped into the canopy overhead. The frames had lasted many years but the covering of branches and fallen debris had slipped to the base of the frames or had been carried away in the passing of time. Some shelters would have comfortably held a single soul for a night or two, others were bigger and must have held a few occupants. I smiled as I stood among the rustic ruins, it appeared the youths from the village near by had received instruction on how to put together these shelters and had no doubt enjoyed some time in the company of friends and mentors in the past.

In the failing light and the approaching storm the bones of the shelters could have passed as a woodland sculpture. A bold statement of form and function harvested from the surrounding environment and gently decaying in harmony with its surroundings. Earlier in the evening I had passed the remains of another abandoned camp, a budget tent lay broken and strewn with plastic bags, its decay was far less harmonious and brought the traces of a throw away culture to a place that should be treated with a greater respect.

I allowed the images of the harvested shelters to fill my mind for a moment, I suspect it had been many years since the woodland floor had been used for teaching and enjoyment in such a way. I hope the sight of the shelters will spark a fond image and perhaps encourage another group to enjoy the experience.

Contrast of Night & Day

Earlier this week I was reminded of my past life, sitting in an uncomfortable humid heat within a clients office I watched as staff became ill at ease with each other and the tasks passed to them by management. I remember well the feelings of striving for promotion and struggling with systems and instructions made by those who are not hands on with the projects on a daily basis. It was a relief to leave the office at the end of the day, but such relief was short lived as I sat on congested roads for two hours steadily baking in my own sweat with the sounds and smells of combustion engines around me.

It was early evening by the time I arrived back at my hovel and after taking care of a few tasks I decided to take two of my dog pack for a wander to help clear my head and enjoy the cooling air. Low clouds obscured the twilight sky depriving me of the vision of the emerging stars between the trees as I set off on familiar tracks and the issues of the day were still turning in my mind in an attempt to distract me from the here and now. It was perhaps a quarter of a mile before I could feel myself beginning to relax and enjoy freedom of movement as the muscles began to shed the tensions of the day.

I emerged from the cover of trees into a wide clearing on a broad and little used vehicle track. A sharp call cut through the breeze and caught my attention, turning I watched two sparrowhawks chasing each other through the young trees in the clearing, vanishing for the briefest moments in the lengthening shadows before reappearing within ten yards of me and circling around me calling as they went. I gained the impression they were not hostile to each other and were perhaps young hawks enjoying their last flight of the day before settling for the night. As they sped away into the far reaches of the clearing I lost sight of them and carried on to the tree line and turned to the smaller tracks.

My two dogs trotted ahead into the gloom, eager to stretch their legs and enjoy their freedom until I was aware of the sounds of growling and scuffling from the track in front of me. I assumed they had perhaps come across a stray dog and I ran forward to ensure a fight would be quickly stopped. I was surprised to find my two dogs either side of a badger, needless to say the badger was not happy about the canines following and investigating as he trotted towards me. The badger stopped for a moment as he realised I was blocking his escape along the path. Standing to the side of the path I created a gap for the badger to escape, the creature scurried by and was only perhaps three feet from me as he accelerated past and into the shadows. It took a few stern commands to prevent the dogs chasing him as they followed their instincts.

Returning to our journey it was only a short distance before we came across another night creature lurking at the edge of the wood with the boundary of a sheep field. Both dogs halted and held their gaze to a vixen watching the sheep. The vixen soon realised her position was exposed and in a flurry of movement sped for a gap in the fence and sprinted across the open field. Again it took stern commands to the dogs to prevent them from giving chase, but I was rewarded by the sight of her escaping to the hedges beyond the open ground.

With a journey of such sights it was little wonder I was calmer and happier by the time we reached the last of the woodland trails and began heading for home. It was a relief I had not given in to the temptations of a chair and the distractions of the TV, within the twilight I had been given far greater gifts.