So there I was last Thursday, out on the Voodoo and once more intent on getting up to my elbows and beyond in brambles and other assorted prickly, wet, or sticky stuff in pursuit of yet more Blackberries...
Weather update: He's not bad.
Yup, it's starting to look and feel a bit Autumnal out and about.
I'm sure these chaps could be added to my roadside foraging - they'd go well in a fry up for a start, but I'm just not confident enough of bagging friendly ones. Some Fungi are on the hostile list and definitely not for eating, and others will get you happy as a Hippy at Bong time. Never let it be said I know what I'm doing, so with that in mind, I stick to photographing mushrooms as the curiosity they are, and eating the ones from the supermarket (so I can sue 'em if I end up with my head down the toilet, or high as a kite).
Crap composition photo time at Boswiddle Ford.
Not only was I liberating juicy fruit from the hedges, but I also... erm... relocated for the purposes of repurposing some old bits of long dead tree from all the litter lying around at Boswiddle Ford.
I'm not a gardenist at all - I like a neat and tidy garden but I'm not into growing flowers and all that malarkey. But I do however, like the idea of a wild garden. Now that doesn't mean letting it grow into some up to the armpits wilderness, or having a mini nature reserve round the back of the house with Zebra and Bison roaming about either. I would like to attract the likes of Hedgehogs and also the wild birds though. So, having a few areas where nothing much would grow even if I wanted it too (under the shade of a gert big tree or a wall) I've started piling up a few naturey things such as Pine cones, lumps of decaying bark and logs and so on. That will encourage insects, and in turn, they will attract birds into the garden. Hedgehogs might find shelter too, although the night shift, 'Flash' the Badger, might fancy a tasty bit of Hedgehog so that could be a risk, but still.
Anyway, that's the theory, and the reason why I sometimes can be found riding around with a pannier, or panniers, full of old bits of half rotten woodland rubbish complete with worms and earwigs and any other creepy crawlies living in it.
Anyway, the ride had been going very nicely. The morning had been dry and with sunny intervals, and the forecast hadn't shown anything untoward.
Having got my fill of Berries and bits of old tree, I ambled my way homewards along the lane from Ladock to Trispen, and then taking a right at Five Turnings as I always do, which is a mile or so further round, but avoids the narrow hill up into St Erme. I ride down that hill all the time, but just don't like climbing it...
But anyway, I was just entering the village and having a bit of a ride around before going home when it went black as four in the morning and the air suddenly drew a chill like stepping from a warm living room straight into a cold, damp garage.
Peering nervously around I saw an extremely belligerent looking sky over the roof tops and decided to forego further tootles around the village and get home quick.
Well I didn't make it...
Aw bums... nearly home and I cop a quick shower. But never mind, riding in the rain can be enjoyable can't it? That's what I was blathering on about in my last post wasn't it? The invigorating feel of being out when others scuttle for cover, the pitter patter of rain in the tree tops and all that blah...
Whoa... Ok... I'm getting rather wet now...
By crikey it completely battered down and I got a right drenching. Such weather is the one time I regret wearing long trousers as becoming saturated in just a few seconds they clung wet and cold to my legs. The rain was running off my jacket and soaking into my crotch too. Now that is a truly miserable feeling well known to any leather jacket and jeaned motorcyclist caught in the rain. Feeling the wet seeping in the crotch area and surrounding Big Jim and the Twins is far from high on my list of pleasurable experiences I can tell you.
No magical and relaxing pitter patter this time, this was rain sponsored by Karcher, it was running down inside my jacket, down my neck, down my chest, down my arms and as mentioned, everywhere 'down below.'
By the time I'd sloshed my way to my back door, the rain had eased a bit, but it was too late, I was properly wet. I stood in the kitchen for a minute or two getting my breath back, watching a rain drop travelling left and right across the peak of my cap just above my eyes before plopping to the floor. A similar drop left the end of my prodigious nose landing some inches ahead of my feet, and even behind my glasses, all around and in my eyes was wet - my eyebrows were holding about half a gallon each I reckon. My thighs started steaming gently where my trousers were still stuck to my thighs and I was standing in an ever growing kitchen pond.
But I had to laugh, I've been riding my luck for a long time now, often getting home just before the heavens have opened, it was only a matter of time before I copped it big time, and rather now when the weather is still warm than in winter when it'd be freezing cold.
A hot shower and even hotter mug of coffee later, and all was refreshingly well again.
So was this rain enjoyable too? Well it did make me laugh so I suppose yes... well... maybe!
But at least I'd felt the weather, lived and experienced the day first hand rather than just seeing it briefly through a glanced at window from a temperature controlled room or running down a car windscreen. So looking at it that way, then yes, it was all part of being alive and out and about in the countryside.
Should it happen again when I'm further from home, and in say... January... well that might provoke different answer, but for now, it's all good fun.
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