 |
| bits |
I can never tire of walking at Hawkwood.
Christmas over.
OH at the football.
Youngest departed with a car full of hammers and drill bits.
At last; a walk in the woods.
Tout seul.
Bliss.
Late afternoon sun and plenty of mud.
 |
| pond |
 |
| young oak |
And an experiment in monochrome.
 |
| grass |
Two hours to do a walk that takes 40 minutes without a camera.
It never fails to restore me to my calmer self.
Happiness is a walk in the woods.
