(Somebody has tipped out something because no dog could pea like that.)
"Hang on,I just want to check my camera!" I called out ,but off Bella went followed by Mrs B. I did manage to catch a leg though.By the way I am not in any of the camera shots even though I dressed for the walk. "Paul ,You cant go out with your shirt all covered in paint." Mrs B,said.
I disagreed, with her. "Some of its Chocolate! Yes I`ve been at the ice creams again I decleared with a crafty smile.
My O` My! I noticed the Sheeps Parsley has leaped up to our shoulder height as we head off into the wood. It is a grand sight at no mistake. Alas like most places in Great Britain the Giant Elm Tree`s died in our wood,and even though scraggy little ones grow they finally succomb to the same fate. However the perfumed pathway skirts gentle past Giant Oaks, and with camera to hand I just like to click away.
Mrs B is waiting,and I am just a dawdling,and Bella wants to hurry over to a place we call The Nature.Off they go again past another old Oak,and heading for the gateway leading onto St Faiths Road.
As I wobble along after them I would like to share a thought with you. Yes writers can do such things,
After I left the leafy green Avenue of my youth,I lived in the City of Norwich for nearly 40 years,and there were no pleasant trees on our street ,just tiny well kept gardens , that fronted each Victorian terraced house. The street with pathway and road of black tarmack is of course still there,but the gardens through idol ignorance have all but disappeared .17 years ago I left that place,and as if by magic flying carpet I arrived here in Fiddle Wood and apart from the rubbish thrown out of passing cars,and the often fly-tipping it is a most pleasing place to live,and I have sunk my roots in here and have no intention of leaving it until I pop my clogs!
As I round the large tree, click, click,I can see them waiting by the gate, and the crossing. The road a noisy place of speeding traffic awaits my gallop!
There is an entrance to Catton Park just opporsite the gate on our side of the wood,and we have long called it,The Nature because it is a great place to walk with the dogs,on any a day. Long ago it had been a Deer Park belonging to Catton Hall,and the whole place was designed by Repton!
Away goes Bella. Away goes Mrs B
Away Go I? No I am just snail pacing myself along behind trying to capture the feel of this gentle walk on camera.
The wide pathway continues on.
We are nearing the point were we exit the tiny wood.
Mrs B, and Bella, are out of the shade and into sunshine.
Yip Little Me Too.
A Wonderful Place,that few know is there. We long ago had written permission by Lord Buxton himself stating we could walk the Deer Park & Wood on his land. That was way back in the day when youths would steal cars in the City and after joy riding would burn them out on this beautiful piece of land. Well in the end burnt out car reck`s littered this place,and so the land was fenched off so no entry could lawfully be made. It was at that Time Mrs B, and I sent a letter directly to the Lord of the Manor Lord Buxton pleading the case of others like ourselves who had lost a beautiful spot on our daily dog walks.
Soon after a letter arrived,granting us access and a new entrance was installed so we and others besides could continue to enjoy this place,that I quite find Magical Indeed.
The large trees Repton planted as twigs long ago.
There in the distance a Car Boot Sale is spotted. Although we had a look,it was mostly rubbish. I spotted some rear toys and was getting interested when the guy I was chatting about how much,What can you do on these ? Bartering! Well he lit up a Fag,and away I went quick as a flash! The Smell gives me fearsome headaches! So I saved a heap of money, and he missed out on having his entire Doctor Who Collection of figures sold all kit and caboodle of it.
Theres my Mrs B,and Bella who usually is allowed to be off lead here,but not today.
Old Catton Hall
During the Great War it was occupied with the casualties that survived the carnage of that conflict, and just visible is the old dead Oak Tree to the right side of the Hall. It was upon this tree that a Mast from a boat was fixed,and held tightly by a heavy rusty chain. A flag was raise upon it if the nursing staff needed help from the Doctor who lived in the City of Norwich about a mile and a half away. So if the Doc saw the flag he was quick sharp and keen as mustard to race up hill to see to the wounded .So the Flag Mast was raised up in 1914,and cracked and riddled with holes it finally fell from the old dead tree last year 2014. It seems a loss of history really in my way of thinking,I only found out about the flag and that Hall while I was doing research on the American Air Crews that were billeted there from 1942 until the end of WWII. I also found out that my Dear Mother Grace Liddy had been in Service there in 1923 until 1926. A Half Crown a week and Sunday afternoons off. My word I cried when writing of it,and how her Father and two older Brothers had fallen in battle in 1914. Tears to find out by my Mother that the reward to the family from Government for such a sacrifice was to put the whole lot of them into the Workhouse. So poor Grace Liddy at the tender age of nine entered that Workhouse in Norwich with her two older sisters, and stayed there until she turned eighteen, in 1923 whereby she entered Service in the Hall where the Titled Buxton family lived.
My word how my typing finger wonders on at odd times. Such is Life.
Catton Hall is now an Old Folks Home for people with plenty of money.
This rather large peaceful place takes about 20 minutes to walk the outside pathways,and before it looked like this it was a large Wheat field up until five years ago,but sometimes Sugar beat was drilled into its grey earth.
It was a short walk and soon we headed homeward bound once more.
The entrance to our side of the sweet smelling wood.
The gate which leads directly into the tiny courtyard where we live.
Beside the gate our rather lush hedgerow and within it somewhere is a nine foot reinforced fence,but the shrubs far exceed this height, and on the other side lay our secrete garden.
It`s a good nine or ten foot in height and the 17 foot Black Bamboo waves upon the breeze.
Our house beckons its welcome with its ever pleasant charm.
A very rare sighting of a Fiddle Wood Gnome. Be quiet they are rather recluse creatures in their playful nature, but any sudden noise tends to send them a running to their bunker beneath a Giant Oak Tree. The narrow pathway through nettles and around brambles is very well trodden on account of the White Rabbit who seems always to disappear down it in his lateness at least two or three times within his busy day. On very quite occasions Gnomes, like the one above often say to visitors, Please excuse the mess I always look like this.
Getting Vibes? No,not at all this is how BB, shows the height of the Hedge Row protecting the garden. Home now. We are off to lashings of hot sweet tea,and perhaps even a few sticky buns. BB