Harbridge House & Church

How quintessentially English is this?

The distinctive 'castle-like' turret on the church and typically robust and handsome brick built (Queen Anne period, perhaps) manor house. Add some nibbling rare-breed sheep, a gorgeous weeping willow and bright red rosehips - AND a crystal-clear bright blue azure sky, reflected in a tributary of the River Avon....

This is was the end of my pre-dawn start walk on the Avon Valley Footpath - which traverses from Salisbury down to Christchurch. I only revisited a short stretch of five miles or so from Fordingbridge, down to Ibsley.

My aim was to 'waste' a couple of hours before I visited father, who lives not hugely far from this scene. My brother, who looks after him and his sister mostly is going away to Lanzarote for 3 weeks, as him and his wife usually do at this time of year.

First obstacle, after alighting the bus in Fordingbridge, still in the night's darkness was that the footpath was closed. With big wooden barriers nailed across the start. I was also bringing down Wellington boots that I had bought to keep at father's farm for usage when down there. These boots are big and bulky and I was not pleased at having now put them on in anticipation of a dry-feet splosh along the muddy footpath, now thwarted.

So, what does a chap do? What would be the worse that could happen? Would this Stroll be Sarum's last, ever?? (loud music swells)

So, I hauled myself under the barrier and VERY carefully tip-toed (yes, in Wellingtons) my way around and over the parts that were an obvious safety hazard - and yes, it was still dark!

The sky slowly lightened. No sunrise. Just shadows and outlines of oaks. More heron than I think I've seen in one place. Their large outlines adding a prehistoric feeling to the river landscape. It's well known that birds follow rivers as they move about and so are a natural bird 'motorway'. Especially at 7.30 a.m.

A small group of roe deer joined close by me. Their heads riveted to the succulent meadow grasses. They hadn't seen me. I looked out across to a distant Bickton Mill, on the far side of the river. Aside the sound of birds, and water, almost complete silence. Me on my own. Little big me and the natural world waking up.

When I next looked up for the deer, I saw them bounding for the water and like from a scene from the Yosemite, they literally swam across the river! Yes, they probably had seen me and that had made them move on but I had hardly moved - I hadn't even tried to put on the long lens to photograph them. Yes, I was transfixed into just watching it all, taking it all in. And, I would have needed some very specialist gear (like a 600mm f4 monster telephoto) to get them swimming in any case. Today, I was the landscaper, not the naturalist. My rucksack was full of things for my father, my ordinary trainers and sustinence, two more lenses and bits to keep warm with. It was, the 2nd of January, after all.

An hour or so later, the sun finally and luminously let free from the early cloud and the Avon Valley sparkled. The footpath climbs out of the valley and up over farmland. This time last year - and where the road I am standing in this pic - was very badly flooded. Yes, Wellington boots were very much needed but the path was quite easily walked with them. At this point, the distinctive outline of Harbridge Church skewered the horizon.

My father, himself  

was in very fine fettle. Cheeky and naughty, with a twinkle and glint in his eye. He looked a lot healthier. Eating and sleeping a lot better now and it really shows. Jack Russell Milo enjoyed seeing me too, his tail almost wagging itself off his white rump!

HUGE    and many thanks for all your New Year wishes. I read them all and appreciate them ALL. I am now behind with Blip, once again, but I think you'll see that I had other things to attend to.

Lens is Tamron SP 17-50mm f2.8