I utterly fell in love with the Great British tradition of ‘going for a walk’ while I lived in England and as soon as I arrived back Worcestershire, I was busting to get back outdoors once more.
A few days ago, on a particularly mild and somewhat sunny afternoon, I pulled on my sturdy walking boots, donned my waterproof jacket and set out on slow ramble…
When Adam and I first moved to England in 2016, we lived with his mum for the first month or so, while we got settled. In those first fledgling weeks Adam also managed to pick up some work, and ended up being away for a fortnight or so. In that time I discovered a multitude of public footpaths quite near his mum’s house, which I’d go meandering along on an almost daily basis. Being able to set out by myself and then navigate my back home again was a source of immense pride in those early days and the walks enabled me to explore my new home. One of my favourite wanders was through some nearby apple and pear orchards, so for old time’s sake, that’s exactly where I headed.
In the cool, crisp air I made my away across freshly sown fields, listening to the constant chatter of birds, almost like a soft melody playing quietly in the background. In an area of woodland, nestled into the lower edges of the Malvern Hills, I came across an elderly gentleman, wearing a tweed flat cap and walking his spaniel. We exchanged pleasantries and I couldn’t help but grin at the bucolic ‘Englishness’ of the whole situation.
Although there’s still a bit of autumnal colour clinging about the countryside, the orchards had well and truly shed their summer skin, leaving a carpet of golden brown leaves underfoot as well as a few shiny, sweet scented apples – some still clinging to bare branches and others nestled in leaf litter.
After stopping to breath in the heady, earthy scent I started to make my way back home again crossing fields lush with grass, startling a rabbit and spying on a small squirrel quietly darting about collecting stores for the cold, dark months ahead.
Although the sun was weak and low in the sky, it still managed to cast a wonderful golden glow over the countryside and couldn’t help but marvel at the quiet beauty of scene around me. Although I hadn’t walk far or on a particularly challenging route, the fresh air was just the tonic my still jet-lagged body needed. Here’s hoping it’ll be the first of many more rambles to come over the coming month.
Have a wonderful week. x