The other evening I went on one of my favourite walks at Stoughton after a particularly ucky day in the office.    And thanks to the heat I was deliberately walkingslowly – you noticeable relax when you’re not charging around the countryside trying to get around within a time frame.

There was still a hint of garlic in the air even though the plants are well and truly dead, the bluebells were just seed heads – spring is over….  There must have been plenty of other scents as well as the dogs were tearing around.  But there was very little bird song – obviously the heat was getting to them as well. 

Why is it you never have your camera with you when you need it?  A magnificent stag was standing in the middle of the path, looking at us staring at him.  Who was going to make the first move?  I give Massey credit, he just stood there and like a good GSP, pointed (did he realise that he would be taking on someone who was much bigger than him, with a fantastic set of antlers to boot).  Well, the stag decided enough was enough, he wasn’t going to hang around and disappeared off into the undergrowth. And time always seems to slow down in moments like these. Even if you do manage to take a photo, the image is never as powerful as  the one you remember.

Since I’ve started this blog my walks are no longer as peaceful, however hard I try.  My mind is buzzing, thinking of comments to make, noting observations, and realising that I think I have these fantastic musings, but when I put fingers to keyboard, they just don’t seem worthy enough!  Its just a load of hot air!  And then walks get taken up by pseudo intellectual debates about when is lost lost and when is lost found …. so should I be referring to my photographs of all things lost, lost, or should they be all things found?  I leave it to you to decide.