As we walk along the canal section I notice a new feature, a rather ugly metal frame that looks so out of keeping with its surroundings. On closer inspection there has been some new concrete work near the lock entrance so combining the two it looks as if they are about to do some major work on the lock as these long timber boards in the storage rack are slotted one on top of the other to hold back the water and isolate the lock while it is completely emptied. I did notice some problems last year at this lock so no doubt it is down for some major repairs and these will have to be done very soon as the other lock is now inoperable and it is a vital section on the Trent Mersey canal for pleasure craft approaching or leaving the Harecastle Tunnel. I must say though that the sight of this modern concrete and galvanised steel structure filled me with some despair as it is so out of keeping with its Victorian setting, I do hope it is removed after the repairs are completed, but I doubt it is here to stay.
Here and there a few red Hawthorn berries remain in the hedgerows and the occasional bright Rose Hip hangs on precariously to the bare stems of Dog Roses, bare Elder branches are covered in a green litchen that lights up in the watery sunshine. Look closely as you walk along these hedgerows of bare twigs and intertwining brambles and between winding tendrils of evergreen Ivy and poisonous Belladonna and you may spot the odd birds nest, now deserted and now the home to small insects their previous occupants have either migrated to warmer climes or scratching out a living in the surrounding woodlands awaiting the return of Spring.
The Maize fields has cow manure from the dairy herd dumped in huge piles ready to be spread as the field is cultivated once more with this nutrient hungry crop, Before I know it the Maize will be taller than my head and another year will have come and gone once more. As we pass an old tree in a field I spot something unusual near the base so pop over for a quick look and find a last remaining fungus growing in the shelter of the tree, the first frost will turn it into mush.
Annie seems to have taken up the habit of cocking up one leg when having one of her many wee’s, strange as she has not done that before, maybe it is the wet grass stopping her from stooping. Funny how your mind can wander at certain times and the phrase “Annie of a Thousand Wee’s” pops into my head probably inspired by the film “Anne of a Thousand Days” a costume drama about Anne Boleyn. Then just as quickly and probably triggered by the name, I realised that very soon it would be one thousand day since the passing of my own Anne, what strange turns and connections our minds can make as we walk along. My sudden depression was lifted by watching little Annie running about and thoroughly enjoying the open fields, we have been cooped up indoors for too long recently, who could not help but smile at seeing that little face looking back at you, pink tongue hanging out and a pair of bright little eyes watching for any sign from me, sometimes I think she reads my mind.
As you know Annie loves water and a flooded field was not to be missed, although had she not been so keen to investigate the water I may have gotten a picture of a lovely male Pheasant as he took of as we entered the field.
(To view click on Flooded field.wmv below the box, it should work) Although we were only out for a couple of hours the day had gone by so quickly and the sky was darkening, but it had lifted my own spirits a little in thinking that I had made it into another year and it was all in front of us now, more long walks with the sun on our faces. Annie as usual managed to get a black mud line from chest to tail but a quick splash in the stream got rid of most of it and a rub down with an old towel did the rest, all we want now is the first signs of leaves on the Hawthorn and I will be a happy bunny, but that is a little way off yet. By the way, the red bells are Annies Christmas collar.
Doesn't even pause!
