I haven't done a walk post in a little while. We often go for a stroll, some longer than others, and I take loads of photos. Some of them make it into scrapbook pages, and I might post one or two on Instagram. I think it's nice, though, to have all the photos in one place so that when I look back I can remember where we went and what it was like. There is a scrapbooking podcast that I listen to (Paperclipping Roundtable) and their most recent discussion is with a woman who suffered amnesia and lost eight years of memories. Wow. I can't imagine. Without even listening to it I have started reflecting on life and how I record it. I haven't kept a paper journal for a long time, but I am considering how I can make sure I am keeping my memories safe. The idea of being 'caught-up' with scrapbooking isn't something that appeals to me as I like to craft when the mood takes me. But what about those important stories that I just haven't got round to scrapbooking yet? I need to think about that.
Yesterday evening, we picked up some chips and a pineapple fritter (to share, I couldn't possibly eat a whole one) and drove to Gurnard seafront. We sat in the car and ate our food...why do chips always taste better outside? Then we walked slowly along the front, past the kids bringing their boats in after sailing club. Just after the boathouse, there was a turning to go up the hill and into a small wood, and a most beautiful sunset behind us.
This is where the photos start to get a bit grainy, because I only had my phone and the light was fading. Even so...the path looked so inviting, rising through lush greenery with the last of the evening sun glinting through the trees. The wood was quite dense and silent, a proper hobbit-wood and we half expected to see Frodo and Pippin sheltering in one of the secluded corners. There was lots of evidence of animal activity, but they all kept out of our way as we walked through.
Apart from this little chap! As we came out of the wood and onto the road again, Chris suddenly stopped and pointed. Whenever he does this I know it means he's seen something, and if I want to see it too then I have to keep quiet, move slowly, and try and see along his line of sight. Just how he spotted this little guy in the hedge, I have no idea. We moved so, so slowly to try and get a better view, and I really didn't think that the mouse would stay there if I took my phone out to try and take a picture. But he did. We moved closer and closer, snapping a shot with every step in the hope that one of them would come out well enough to see. By the time I got close enough to take the shot above (and there's no zoom on that, it's as it comes from the camera), I was holding my breath to try not to disturb him. I had my arm out holding the phone, and my other hand trying to fend off the branches and random insects that were doing their best to put me off. Mr Mouse, though, wasn't in the least bit bothered. He waited until we were up close and looked right at us, before turning and making his way slowly back into the depths of the hedge. Magic.
That moment is going to be a hard one to beat. I am so glad that there is that photo there to remind me, and I am so glad I've written down just how magical it was. Walking back to the car we could smell a beautiful floral scent from one of the gardens nearby, and could see the mist rolling in from the West. Beautiful.