Fields of gold

Wake to a sunny bank holiday Monday morning. Put the kettle on and warm up the frying pan whilst taking advantage of the weather by hanging out the bedding I washed yesterday. The cold wind persists, but I have blackbirds nesting in the hedge and starlings under the eaves. Make a full English breakfast with tea for a change and then listen to the news. As expected Sarkozy has lost the French presidency, his successor, Francois Hollande, seems a decent sort of guy. Later make a bechamel sauce as part of a lasagne, the meat sauce marinaded in the slow cooker yesterday. This done, put on my running gear and set off around the fields behind Tickton. I haven't run since last Wednesday with the club, but everything feels OK, follow the usual route to the end of Green Lane, through the snickett onto Carr Lane, and then past the stables and the farm and down to the little wooden bridge over the dyke. Turning left run along the side of the dyke for half a mile, golden yellow, flowering rape seed in the field to my left, until the path turns right and runs along another dyke at right angles to the first. I am practising my circular breathing, counting my breaths up to seven and back to one, focussing on the feel of my body and running, tall, relaxed and light. I'm warmed up now and moving smoothly, the cold wind has veered to the Southeast and there are rain clouds mounting to the West. After another half mile turn right again over a metalled bridge with the rape seed field to my left, then right again for half a mile to complete the first loop, before turning left, back towards the wooden bridge and "nearly straight wood", and on to the second loop. Today's run is a figure of eight around the fields, the woods shield me from the wind and apart from having to skirt round some boggy patches, the path through the woods is very pleasant, the faint scent of pine resin in the air and the intense green on the broadleaf trees after all the rain. I complete the second loop and then retrace my steps down Carr Lane, the little one eyed Jack Russell isn't in his usual place by the stables, but it's been a few weeks since I last ran down here. When I get home, shave, shower and get my washing in before meeting friends at the local Garden Centre for coffee and to look for fresh plants for the Garden Room.