Back home, the locals walk the dog. Round here, they walk their cows, grazing them on the verges and beneath the hazel trees.
We’re just walking the lanes around the hill. It’s not far; easy on the legs.
On the other side of the hill, the view is magnificent. That’s looking inland, away from the sea.
We decide not to take the alternative route home as the guard dog sitting on a garden wall doesn’t look too friendly. So we just head back the way we came, between tea and hazelnut fields, the occasional grape vine hanging overhead.
This lane will carry is home, a light climb up hill.
We find our daughter with our neighbour in a nearby field, tending to her cows. Our lad joins her.
Looks like they’ve found nuts to munch on. Peace and quiet for a while.
Last modified: 21 September 2024
