Elvish Sunday

The unexpected thing today was running into an entire family of Elves, chattering away in Elvish. Completely unexpected and really quite odd.

We were at Petworth Park, a spot we haven’t visited for years. We used to walk the poodles at Petworth when we lived at Haslemere but it’s a bit far to make it a regular spot these days. Of course that means it makes a lovely change when we do visit.

It was a first for Emma and Freya, something that sends them a bit manic. And not just the walk. They also saw deer for the first time. Oh, and the Elves.

Speaking of deer…here’s a Deers Leap update photograph.

Things seem to be moving on a bit now the excavation has finished. The floor of the basement is finished and the walls have started to rise. The biggest problem is the growth of foliage between me and the construction. It’s going to get increasingly difficult to take photographs as the bushes grow.

But back to Petworth…

We weren’t the only people out and about trying to avoid startling the herds of deer. Though the photo above appears completely devoid of life, the crowds were bustling at the edges of my lens, waiting to fill the landscape with children and dogs. And Elves.

We had a jolly good walk up and around, taking in the splendid view of Petworth House over the lake which was when we discovered the family of Elves.

At first we thought they were just a normal family out with the kids, enjoying the countryside but then one of the kids, a little girl with a very animated face, started acting like a cat for the benefit of the puppies.

This was very odd but is perhaps one of those Elvish training things whereby they can change into animals at a moment’s notice whenever the moment requires it. This child was clearly still in training because at no time did she turn into a cat.

The dogs were a bit mystified and chose to remain at a safe distance. This only made the Elf child try harder, creeping closer, making the strangest sounds.

It was at about this stage that we realised the strange noises were also coming from behind us.

It wasn’t long before we were surrounded by the chattering which we suddenly realised must have been Elvish. It had an odd other worldish tone to it; dare I say magical.

There were quite a few of them; perhaps two or three family groups and none of them acknowledged our presence. The dogs, yes, us, no. Very weird behaviour.

We stood and stared at the landscape for a while, to give them a chance to get well ahead, and watched their slow and seemingly meaningless meandering. At one point another dog accidently became stuck in their orbit but, eventually broke free.

Then we met a chap who seemed to be the Lord of the Manor. Very agreeable and full of information about the park and the house (“…not as nice as the previous one, back in the 1500’s…”). He also had a dog which had been bred to chase birds and ignore deer. Amazing. But true.

Having reached the car we decided to stop off at the tiny village of Lurgashall for a drink at the Noah’s Ark pub. So glad we did. What a quintessentially English country pub. And they had Timothy Taylor’s Landlord on tap. Perfect.