Oak woods and home comforts

We wake to a brighter day, but with a fierce wind blowing from the southwest and buckling the tops of the fir trees on the far side of the field, beyond the garden. Norman diligently trots down the garden path to relieve himself on the lawn, before sprinting back indoors to monitor the progress of breakfast in the kitchen. It is ready by a quarter to eight, Normy's share of the spoils are half a rasher of bacon, half a sausage, a piece of black pudding and some egg white, cut into dachshund sized pieces and placed in his tray. With the possible exception of roast lamb, I think Norman enjoys his breakfast best. When we are finished eating, we retire to the garden room, where I read the Guardian on my iPad over coffee, until it is time to shower and dress for the day. It is still very windy when we arrive on Newbald Road with Dolly and Teddy, but the air is milder than last night, there are huge puddles everywhere and a stream has formed that poor Norman is forced to wade. Once in the safety of the woods, I let Teddy and Normy off their leads and they go their separate ways, checking scents here and there, but always keeping myself and Dolly in sight. The ground is sodden and boggy and the last of the leaves, that are still left on the trees, flutter down towards the ground in spirals of lonely isolation. Dolly and Teddy exchange places when we emerge on to the common, this higher, chalky ground, is better drained and much less soggy than the woods, low clouds scud across the sky, driven by the wind, whose full force we now face, as we make our way towards Black Mill. After restricting ourselves to the village due to yesterday's heavy rain, I decide to take advantage of today's drier weather and skirt the western edge of the common, trying to keep to the lee of the wind. Eventually we approach Burton Bushes, where a large proportion of the trees are oak, one of the last to lose its leaves in the autumn. The oaks are resplendent, the leaves the colour of antique gold, and here and there, little grey squirrels gather acorns for the approaching winter. In the woods themselves the rainfall has added to the fragrance of the scentscape, a heady mixture of tannic oak, cidery elm, damp earth, moss and fungi. We sit for a while on Brandon Barker's bench, sheltered from the wind, and feel the peace of this wonderful primeval woodland. No man made artistry or architecture can compare to this, each visit is like a short holiday for the soul and my dogs seem to share this feeling too. We all love these woods. We wander away happily down the hill to the car and then drive back to Cherry Burton, where I deliver Dolly and Teddy back to Pip, before driving home. We get stuck in the roadworks for ten minutes but I don't mind and just look at the small lakes that have been formed on Swinemoor, beneath the raised levee of the river Hull. Once indoors, Norman has some dry dog food and I make a mug of tomato soup, which I eat with the remains of last night baguette. I intend to swim later this afternoon, between two and three thirty, if I don't forget my trunks again, but decide to prolong my peaceful state of mind in meditation first. Later feeling very relaxed but unusually tired, I find myself feeling very sleepy and decide to nap for half an hour. When I awake, I have slept for three hours, my body must have been in need of the rest but alas, it is now too late to swim. Norman reminds me that it is time for his dinner, so I open a tin for him and he seems satisfied. The wind has gained in strength and it has started to rain, large wet drops are driven against my windows and set up a rolling drumbeat whose cadence rises and falls with the intensity of the storm. A good night to be indoors! And a good night for a hot winter dinner, I make lamb steak with thick onion gravy, mashed potatoes, spring greens, carrots and broad beans, a large glass of Cabernet Shiraz accompanies the meal. Afterwards, comfortably replete, I read my book in the Garden Room until the sound of the storm eases a little and then dress in my foul weather gear and take Norman for his evening walk. We shelter under a large golf umbrella but it is still raining quite heavily, although the wind is not so strong. The adverse weather seems to accelerate my dogs bladder and bowels and after five minutes, he has done all he needs to do before bedtime and just wants to be back indoors, a sentiment I wholeheartedly support. When we get in, I dry him on his towel, do the washing up and then return to my book. He is snoring gently in his basket as I finish this blog. To bed around eleven.