We had the most beautiful day for our walk, warm, bright, with a crisp breeze in places. We came off the Brampton Valley Way and headed across the fields at a leisurely pace. We marvelled at a huge mound of grass cuttings, branches, dog wood, hay, twigs, all sorts of evidence of agricultural industry. We wondered at the work this must have entailed, the hours, the organisation and the skill required to keep the land managed and fertile.
A stream that cut it's slow, trickling way under the wooden bridge
and no one but Carole noticed the tree root that beckoned "This Way"
The land rose to give us views of the gently rolling countryside. Trees were breaking into leaf and fields of rape were coming into flower. The acid yellow and the pungent smell remains quite hard to love, even though it can be pressed into an excellent oil. It is a nightmare for hay fever sufferers, the consumption of local honey can ease the effects but it has a strange perfumed flavour which takes some getting used to.
The elegantly faded stone archway set between gently weathered red brick walls, was now part of someone's garden, no great house in sight, no clue to it's original purpose, a mystery.
From Maidwell churchyard we could see the formal gardens, assorted building and curious towers of Maidwell Hall Boarding School.
through a gap in the a hedge we saw a house which reminded us of cocktail parties and croquet, even though there was not a soul to be seen.
We enjoyed the spring flowers in neatly painted window boxes and the ornamental quince blossom in well loved, carefully tended gardens.
Photograph by Kate Dyer
Photograph by Kate Dyer
Photograph by Kate Dyer
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