Thursday evening Paul pointed out a walk that starts literally at the end of the street. It takes 2 hours to do the full loop; I went for about 45 minutes. I had a huge smile the whole time – I WAS WALKING IN THE ENGLISH COUNTRYSIDE. Mom, you’ll be proud of me, I didn’t actual shout that out, but I was sure thinking it!
So, the first picturesque site was the stile into the sheep pasture.
Now, I’m really wondering how I knew the word ‘stile.’ Was it from a nursey rhyme or a fairy tale? I immediately knew what Paul was talking about when he said it and linked the word with visual when he pointed it out. (I’ve been finding that sometimes I need to translate the language/accent before comprehending.)
The white spot is actually a white pony…Welsh perhaps?
This picture reminds me of the old Pony Club manual – Keeping a Pony at Grass.
He had a number branded on his back, under where a saddle would go. Seemed odd to me.
A brick wall/fence. This really made me think of fox hunting.
A gate covered in real, honest-to-goodness ivy.
And then the mother-lode just before I turned around.