Distance: 8.5km
Accessibility: Not good. Bring decent shoes, and sticks if possible. Prepare to fall over at least one.
Landscape: Dying corn fields.
A mucky, drizzle fuelled autumn has arrived. I think back to those summer walks with sadness. The sun is setting on my year. Have I told you enough about the Butter Mouse? Have you learnt all the best trips?
I keep thinking of that delicious pint last week. Perhaps this should have been a guide to pubs in the local area instead. Or perhaps that is the sequel sorted.
Our friend the mud is back in style. I am at least more prepared with stronger boots and a thicker coat. Waterproof trousers. And if we need to go back into the grime, then we should at least explore somewhere scenic. Somewhere like the fields of Bendfeorm.
This is one of the biggest areas of corn production in the country. What would have been a golden river a few months before is now a shadow of plant skeletons. The last few stalks remain standing, but the battle is lost. Heads of dried stalks lie decapitated by the path. The farmers have vanished indoors.
Rather than the viscous gloop of earlier in the year, this mud made me slide with every step. I have to stagger along with my hands out. No chance to escape if anything chases after you here. Nowhere to hide with the crops gone. The air smelt of dried up lakes.
At points the path is so slippery have to move onto the field, and crunch through the last of the dying corn. I do not think the owner will mind considering the harvest has finished, but I still regretted doing so. I understand the importance of not trespassing. How much of a shock a stranger can bring.
One time, in the old house, I looked out the window, and saw a woman standing in the garden. She was staring right at me.
The police found she had a plastic bag full of Butter Mouse books, all stained with earth and fruit. Perhaps she genuinely wanted to get them signed, however the authorities never informed me of her motives. Maybe a knife hid in her other pocket.
That is all so far away now. I wonder what happened to her.
Archie was in the same room that day. He saw her too . I hope that it wasn’t responsible for
One of the corn husks had weird marks on the dried hollows. Like it has been chewed.
I look around, and over the hills is
::Not just scenic Barbara. I wanted to go somewhere with some vegetables. Because I knew it would be watching. I cannot tell if it is getting bolder, or if I am more comfortable with it’s prescience. Or if I am starting not to care.
Is that Butter Mouse anecdote too scary? There was something about her clothes. Her eyes. She had a physical presence, like if a crocodile appeared on your lawn.
This event was a good test for today. I can cope with dangerous situations. When needed. I think.
There are not many places left to hide. But I am not going back to the city.::
