We took the girls to Frensham this afternoon. For a change we took the path that leads through the heather rather than our usual route that follows the edge of the pond. It’s no longer or shorter but it is very different.
If anyone had suggested a walk earlier in the day I’d have just laughed. Hysterically.
The rain did not stop for most of the day. And it was heavy, solid, drenching rain. I was even a bit tentative about going out to my office, realising that I’d be sitting there soaked.
But then, at about 4pm, the rain cleared, the clouds parted and the day was made anew.
We gathered the girls and took off, assuming the good weather was now here to stay. As it turned out, this wasn’t the case but the rain returned as we were driving home. I did feel a bit sorry for the woman and her dog who we passed just setting off as we made it back to Max. I’m sure she would have been soaked.
But our walk was anything but miserable.
It was like there were no imminent dangers in the world. No stupid plague, no self harming Brexit, no uncaring Tory government. People were happy, smiling and, most importantly, friendly. There were no masks and no fear. There was even a sizeable family group, laughing and cavorting on the sand.
I love living in Farnham and I love visiting Frensham Little Pond. Moving here was possibly the best decision we ever made. Well, apart from getting married in the first place. From that great decision has flowed all the rest.
