Blowing away the cobwebs

26 December 2014

Our Christmas Day was a quiet affair, lots of food and sitting around with the family. Much of it wearing the silly gold hats from our Christmas dinner crackers, well apart from Commando Junior who steadfastly refused to do something so juvenile. Originally I’d planned on going for a little walk but time ran away and I didn’t. Sitting around in front of the fire eating chocolates all day is surprisingly tiring.

Boxing Day, or St Stephen’s Day is the day when employers would traditionally give their servants and tradespeople gifts or ‘Christmas boxes.’ My gift to myself was a walk to blow away the cobwebs, work off some of the food I’d eaten and try to add a few miles to my woefully inadequate December total. When I mentioned the plan Commando Junior said he’d join me.

It was cold and dull when we set out but climbing the Little Hill soon warmed us up. We strolled down Spring Road talking about the strange weather we’ve had. Bedraggled white roses and periwinkles, scrambling over a garden wall underlined the conversation by being in full flower.
“If things are flowering now does this mean we’ll have no flowers in spring?” I wondered.
“I’m sure they’ll still flower,” Commando Junior said, “just not as much as usual.”

Pretty soon we’d reached Millers Pond. Surprising how much shorter a walk it seems with company. It was muddy down by the pond and the ducks were conspicuous in their absence, as were the fishermen. We stood for a little while looking at the skeletal trees reflected in the water. A few spots of rain began to fall, rippling the picture.

It seemed to be a good plan to get out of the rain so we crossed the road and headed towards Mayfield Park and the Butterfly Walk. Of course I knew there’d be no butterflies but I thought we might find some interesting fungi and Commando Junior finds such things almost as interesting as I do. Within the first ten yards we saw a tree covered with small bracket fungi just the other side of the water filled ditch that runs beside the trail.

When I grumbled about not being able to get close enough Commando Junior took the camera from me and straddled the ditch.
“I knew there was a good reason for bringing you with me,” I joked. “Those long legs of yours come in handy.”
“You need to grow a bit,” he laughed.
“I think my growing days are long gone,” I giggled. “Unless you count outwards.”

We stopped again at the clearing to look at the sculptures made from dead trees. There are a few of these hidden in the park and, on a nicer day, it might have been fun to try to find more of them. Even Commando Junior’s extra height couldn’t help me get a better photo of the tinder fungus growing high on a dead tree in the clearing but I did point out the woodpecker holes in the same tree.
“I’ve never seen a woodpecker but there must be some here somewhere,” I told him. He seemed interested but he could have been humouring his old mum, I believe a lot of that goes on.

Once we’d crossed the little bridge over the stream things got muddy. We were at the lowest point of the park where small side streams cross the path taking water from the higher ground into the main stream. We squelched around the edges, slipping a little now and then and laughing at ourselves. A little off the trail I spotted a tree trunk dotted with small orange and brown spots. Some clambering got me a photo but not a great one.
“You need a macro lens mum,” Commando Junior said most helpfully.
“You should have brought your camera,” I told him.

A little further on we spotted a mass of logs, mud and debris damming the stream. We climbed down the bank to get a closer look but the ground was too boggy to get very close. We wondered between us whether this had been built by some creature or was just a result of debris being swept downstream. I’m inclined to think the latter as I’m pretty sure we don’t have any beavers in Southampton and I’m not sure there are any other creatures that build dams. Of course it could have been small boys, you never know with them.

Back on the trail another small flash of orange caught my attention. Almost kneeling I could see rows of tiny orange balls about the size of a full stop hanging on thin stalks. Fungi or slime mould I couldn’t tell which but they were pretty. Commando Junior was suitably impressed by my find, or at least he pretended to be.

On we went along the leaf strewn trail and, once we’d crossed the road to Jurd’s Lake, I told Commando Junior how I’d seen apple trees and plums growing there in summer along with enough blackberries to keep us in pies for the whole year. This really did seem to interest him. His eyes lit up and I think he was making a mental note of the spot. Free sweet things are his favourite. There were dog walkers on the trail here and the brightly coloured stems of dogwood.

One more road and we were almost at the shore. Despite the rain and my warnings about the crumbling bank, Commando Junior jumped down onto the shingle unable to resist the lure of skimming stones. This is something I’ve never been able to master or understand the thrill of. Maybe it’s a boy thing. Collecting shells is more my kind of thing but I wasn’t going to risk falling for that so I stood and took a few photos while he played at moving the beach into the sea. Maybe if I was a better mother I’d have been cheering and counting how many times his stones bounced.

The rain started falling in earnest so my stone skimming son climbed back up the bank and we set off for home. A fisherman was huddled on the shingle near the sailing club. It seems an odd way to spend Boxing Day to me but each to their own. Tramping through the woods probably seems like an odd thing to do to lots of people I suppose.

There are always interesting things to see on a walk, even in the city. A few owe nothing at all to nature. Not far from the shore we came across a Babrie doll’s head high in the branches of a tree looking a little like a macabre Christmas decoration. How it got there is a puzzle we’re never going to solve but I’m guessing it may be connected to the sparkly tiara we found a few bushes further up the road. Curious.

The rain followed us up the hill towards the village and we reached home dripping gently with the cobwebs well and truly blown away. As Boxing Day’s go, it was one of my better ones.