|Starting out in Chilly Ashton|
|The Guardian at the Gate|
|A Soup of Mud and Sheep Poo|
Day 2 and feeling eager, but it doesn't look welcoming. You can listen to all the reports you want but the weather does what it chooses. Isn't that part of the pilgrimage, to accept whatever happens and see it as part of the whole shebang? Nonetheless, I brought my poncho, spare socks I was grateful for, and a second pair of shoes. George drops us at the church in Cold Ashton where we'd stopped yesterday and off we go!
If I said the going was a bucolic walk in the park I would be misleading. Paved roads are hard on shins and heels. One section was horribly noisy with the loud whine and rumble from the major M5 motorway which we had to cross on a bridge. The terrain was uneven, slanted and rutted from livestock. The rain drizzled. And the mud! It sticks to your boots until you're teetering on cement platform shoes.
But things couldn't be working out better as we settle into our paces and positions, walking in the ancient footsteps of countless others - Steve in the front finding the way, Linda midpoint between because she's faster than me, and me dawdling behind sometimes out of sight and free to explore slugs, snails, hedgerows and birds. We sometimes chat but are mostly in our own thoughts. We're each getting from our pilgrimage what we need. Truly we are blessed!
|Here's Steve and Linda. I Always Think It's Nice to See Where You've Been|
|I Am the Green Man|
|Coming Out of the Woods to Dyrham|