February 2006

[Sweder]

A stress-relieving Sussex hills chill-out.
Following another turbulent night I bit the bullet and took a day working at home. Not the tasty little scam it may at first appear; there’s plenty for me to do here. Not as productive as the brain-storming atmosphere of a vibrant office, perhaps, but useful for knocking out chores that require uninterrupted peace & quiet. And for avoiding unnecessary tantrum-throwing at the first sign of adversity (which is, for me, the moment I try to print something or open more than one application on my work-shy computer).

Following a late breakfast of toast and honey lunchtime arrived with indecent haste. I stared at the clock, then at the hounds, expectant, hopeful eyes watching in case I should stray towards the rack of muddy shoes and boots in the utility room. I buckled.

Leggings, sweatshirt and DAB radio for me, leads and wagging tails for the dogs, we left the house and stepped into breath-taking winter sunshine. The horizon spoke in hues of blue with a smokey ridge, reminiscent of California mornings without the warmth. Thoughts queued up in my addled head, but like Nan’s home-made Fairy Liquid bubbles from my youth, vanished as soon as I reached for them. I can see her now, my lovely old Nan; head thrown back, laughing fit to burst as I leap in vain to capture my soapy quarry.

The hills stretched out before us, bleached by the strongest sun of the year. A nor-westerly wind did it’s best to slow us but speed was not my aim this early afternoon. My goal was simple, to plod, unfettered by the stresses of life, to drink in nature in the raw, suck down a lungful or two of crisp, clean air. To plod.
To live; to feel alive.

Rounding Blackcap I felt renewed, refreshed. A glance at the time; why not?
I pushed on past the hilltop and through the gate onto the South Downs Way.
An hour later, warm, sweaty and very happy, our merry band of travellers returned home, somewhere close to 10 joy-filled miles behind us. We’d hailed cyclists, waved/ wagged at sheep and been buzzed by a pair of majestic gliders, swooping down from thermal heaven over Plumpton College and racing along the edge of the downs, silently strafing the indolent grazers.

Sometimes you just need to get out and run.
Your worries and troubles will be waiting patiently for you when you return, but they might find you in somewhat feistier mood.

Afterward:
I’d always thought this particular lope was around 8 miles, but when I reached the Ditchling Road (half way point today) I paid close attention to the walkers’ signpost there. It said ‘Houndean Farm 5 ½ Miles’. Well, Houndean Farm is just before my house on the return so I’m booking in 10.

[SIZE="1"][COLOR="RoyalBlue"]Pictures:
South Downs Way/ Ditchling Beacon looking west; Homeward Hounds with eastward view of Blackcap & stables; View from Blackcap looking east over the Ouze valley[/COLOR][/SIZE]