bewilderbrain

Tuesday 27th May 2025
Walk start time: 8.06pm
Walk finish time: 9.03pm
Walk area: Whaddon Fields, Gloucestershire
Miles walked: 3.05

An evening walk. And the air has a brooding quality to it, grey skies and sharp pulls of wind, like something more ominous may be afoot. This evenings walk is in Gloucestershire, where I was born, and I am called to stay with family for a couple of days to provide assistance with care during a hospital stay.

Such occasions are rarely without stress, and I am without my immediate comforts and familiarities of family and home, so I embark upon a brisk walk to help me sleep.

Starting through the leafy suburbs of southern Gloucester, I have the odd sensations that come with revisiting an old stomping ground. Sights that are at once familiar, yet alien to my current existence. My focus is on moving my body however, and on breathing the outdoor air. There is a coolness in the evenings breeze, and I probably have about an hour before the sun, already low in the sky, dismisses itself entirely from the day.

As the road begins to turn to fields along one edge, garden borders are festooned with life and colour. I feel that I must have hit the absolute pinnacle of mayflowering when I spot this display that looks abundant enough to bath in.

As I continue past the last of the old style new-builds, I am struck by the beauty of simple contrasts; flowing rambling roses against cool, ordered stonework, trailing soft greenery barely enclosed by a stalwart cast iron fence.

I have turned onto the main road which heads out into a much loved section of countryside. The wind has picked up, and in between the roar of the cars going by the insistent swish of the road side grasses swaying sounds ethereal under the grey skies.

I relish the feeling of slight cool in the evening air after a stuffy sort of a day, and enjoy feeling somewhat blown about, letting nature take charge of my decisions.

After a spell on this main road, I take a turn off to the right, down a little lane that I would frequently walk with my best friend when I was a teenager. At a field edge I have a vague recollection of feeding apples to a Donkey (did we call him Dinky, C? she will remember)

The lane leads past picture book cottages, and towards its end a beautiful old church, the entrance to whose grounds has a hint of Narnia about it.

At the end of this lane, is the stile into a field, a footpath across which we would regularly shortcut through as kids to get back home. Sadly, some of the fields further on now have newbuild houses on, but it was all farmland back then, richly pungent with manure, and cowpat dodging was an important part of the adventure.

I glance at the footpath sign and am intrigued to see another post going another direction, labelled “Glevum Way” What? I do not know this path? I am filled with the excitement of having a new route to look up and possibly explore at a later date. I learn that the signpost heralds part of a section of a 24 mile circular walk around the outskirts of Gloucester, broken into 5 sections, and it covers some areas of much loved countryside for me. I am determined to make time in the next year to start walking sections of this route.

Retracing my steps back up the lane, I try to avoid overtly peering into a warmly lit cottage living room as the honeysuckle in their front walled garden releases its intoxicating fragrance into the evening air.

More white flowers in an evening that has been liberally strewn with them festoon the high hedgerows on my left. This time elderflower, not so much known for the loveliness of its scent, but the filigree delicacy of its petals is arresting.

On my return along the main road, I marvel at the size of the oak trees that flank the edges of the fields on either side – their quiet grandeur and immovability, even in the evenings stiff breeze.

I wonder whether the road or the trees were there first, and whether some of these fine specimens may be centuries old. In the UK, native oak trees can support an incredible 2,300 species, making them utterly vital to our ecosystem.

With dusk drawing near, and with my own need for bed fast approaching, I hear various bird calls and rustlings amongst the tree branches, and the grasses beneath. The sky ahead is taking on a purple hue, and I trudge toward the conclusion of my walk happily imagining the variety of creatures getting cosy for the night in the magnificent canopies.

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