an evening walk and a farewell party

26 June 2015

The bad week ended with a walk. Part of our farewell for the RCSM was a meal at Ham Farm. As the team wouldn’t be getting there until half past seven and it didn’t seem worth going home at five just to go out again, I decided to walk there from work. With my head still full of images of gunmen on Tunisian beaches, I left the office and set off. Originally Id planned to walk across Cobden Bridge towards the Navigation but it was a sultry evening, hot and thundery with a chance of rain so I thought it wasn’t the best of plans.

In the end I headed for the path leading to Monks Brook Meadows. As I walked through the city streets thoughts about the terrible tragedy in Sousse went round and round my head. It was so easy to imagine myself on the beach, the panic, the fear. What would I have done? Would I have stayed on the beach to help the injured or run for the safety of my cool white room with the arched windows and bright yellow and blue bedspread?

Once I got onto the path with the brook babbling away beside me my mind slowly began to calm. The green leaves and wildflowers were soothing and by the time I walked under the double railway arch the bad week slowly began to fade away. The trail was narrower than I remembered, the grasses and wildflowers had grown taller since my last visit and been joined by nettles that made me watch every step for fear of being stung. The brook was hidden behind a wall of green, I could hear it but I couldn’t see it until I crossed it.

It felt strange to be walking in the evening, more lonely somehow with a slight undercurrent of danger. Unless I got very lost it was unlikely to be dark before I arrived but I still felt slightly more nervous than I normally do, more aware of my surroundings. Climbing the slope into the meadows I was met by a wall of oxeye daisies. Amongst them splashes of purple knapweed and the swaying heads of grasses. It would have been nice to linger a while and look for grass snakes or butterflies but I knew I didn’t have time to spare so I kept to the path drinking in the beauty of the place.

By this time I was getting quite warm and wishing I’d thought to bring a water bottle to work. Hindsight is a wonderful thing but all I could do was carry on to the tunnel under the road and the playing field. Maybe I’d be able to get a drink when I reached Eastleigh. In contrast to the meadows, the playing field had hardly any wildflowers, even in the rough grassy areas, just some Catsear seed heads like overblown dandelion clocks. This time I kept to the path, remembering all too clearly the shortcut through the grass I took last time and the painful nettle sting I got for my stupidity.

Towards the end of the path through the flattened grass I started to worry about finding the way out. The only time I’ve walked this route I was going in the other direction and I didn’t use the path that time. Then I saw a man coming towards me from the right. Part of me was relieved because I guessed he’d come in the way I needed to go out, the other part was a little alarmed to be alone in a field with a stranger and darkness just around the corner. As it happened I needn’t have worried, he was walking a dog who was trailing behind him a little way. He wished me good evening and we both went our separate ways although the dog tried to follow me until his master called him back. For some reason I seem to be a magnet for strange dogs. It was a relief to get out onto the road.

Actually relief might be a strong word for it. This is a road with no footpaths, my least favourite kind. Luckily it was fairly quiet and I knew I didn’t have far to walk. Before long I came to St Nicolas Church. It’s an interesting church built between 1590 and 1610 on the site of a thirteenth century church and a saxon chapel and, although I’ve passed it several times on my walks I’ve never had time to explore.

As hot and thirsty as I was I did stop to walk through the lych gate to get a better look at the church. The gate was designed by Isle of Wight architect Percy Stone and built in 1909 in memory of Emily Macarthur, the wife of the bishop of Southampton at the time. The oak timber was taken from HMS Thunderer, one of the ships involved in the Battle of Trafalgar.  One of the most curious things about the church is its clock. Installed in the seventeenth century it has just one hand to count the hours because back then, “time was counted in hours, not minutes.”

Much as I’d  have liked to stay and explore the old graves I had a party to get to and a few more miles to walk so, fairly reluctantly, I walked back through the lych gate to the road. There were a few hairy moments as the road twisted and turned and a few cars came past quite fast but I survived. When I reached the end I could see the Lakeside path and the ford over Monks Brook. From this point on it would be easy going.

For weeks now I’ve  been meaning to go to Lakeside in search of cygnets and, as I walked along the path lined by masses of oxeye daisies and wild cranesbil, I was hopeful of seeing some. After all, I’d seen a nest last time I came this way. When I came to the first lake I was disappointed to see no wildlife of any kind unless you count fishermen.

As I turned the corner I did see my first ducklings of the year. They were sitting with mother duck on one of the fishermens platforms looking all cute and fluffly. Very quietly I sneaked closer with mother duck watching me warily and quacking every now and then to warn me off. She wasn’t happy to see me so I took a couple of pictures and left her in peace but I was pleased that at least some eggs have hatched on the lakes.

Thinking I might have more luck where I saw the nesting swans I crossed the wooden bridge and took the winding trail along the second lake. Apart from two ducks and yet more fishermen there was nothing to see. In fact the only swans I saw were behind me on the far side of the first lake but they seemed to be alone. Later, when I looked at my photos I though I might have detected two grey specks that could have been cygnets. I’m pretty sure they were ducks but maybe I should have walked the other way?

The boating lake was also devoid of wildlife so I made my way to the giant seat. The golden light told me the sun was beginning to go down and there were some rainy looking clouds on the horizon so I made my way out of the park, a little sad to be leaving and a little disappointed I’d still not seen any cygnets. Where are they all this year?

There was one more stop to take a photo of the thatched cottage on the corner of Passfield Avenue and then I made my way towards the Swan Centre where I hoped I’d be able to grab a takeaway coffee. Silly me, it was evening, the Swan Centre was closed, so feeling a little annoyed at the lack of caffeine based beverages, I carried on through Eastleigh and beyond to Twyford Road. It seemed someone had made the road longer since I last walked this way. The last mile or so to Ham Farm took an eternity. Still my day ended with a cool diet coke and a nice meal with my team which is more than I usually get at the end of a walk so I can’t complain.