The sun was less fierce today and tempted me out for a lunchtime walk. I was only thinking of the exercise as I crossed the pig fields and entered the woodland, ready to share the path with one of the common runners that use this route. A few seconds into the shade and I heard a commotion in the shadows and saw the retreating form of a roe deer.
Out onto the glade, with its curled bracken fronds and islands of bramble I saw an orange tip. Across the stream by the bridge and over the muddy section of the Test Way I encountered four squirrels. Down to the next bridge, where the pool isn't any more, even so there was a banded damoiselle and a red damsel.
Rather than visit the cows in the following field I went along the field edge, following the stream to the remains of a fallen trunk, at least 2 feet in diameter, festooned with ferns, lichens and woodland flowers, across the stream. A rustle in the old root-ball alerted me to a quickly retreating grass-snake that had been basking. I didn't see the head but could judge the size from the disturbance it left in its wake and the width of its tail. At that corner of the stream there was the continuous song of a chiff-chaff with the usual background of pigeon, thrush and occasional bursts from nuthatches and pheasants.
Walking back I found a tick on my foot, still looking for a spot to bite. I encouraged it to learn to fly. In an impromptu glade at the broken base of a fallen tree I found my first red-admiral of the year. Under the canopy the trapped air was nearly as thick as soup, making vision misty and the atmosphere heavy in the lungs.
Forty five minutes of wild lunchtime.
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