Sign at Scrooby Top
Sunny weather was predicted for Friday and that forecast came true. I should have set out earlier but as the old saying goes - better late than never. It was 1pm when Clint touched down in the tiny estate village of Serlby in North Nottinghamshire. Of course, night comes much earlier nowadays - more so since we in Britain put our clocks back last Sunday. I knew that by five o'clock it would be dark.
I had planned a circular walk and printed off the requisite map. I guessed that it would take me around three hours and so it came to pass. If felt so good to put one foot in front of the other once again, moving gradually over the landscape.
By 4pm I was drinking hot coffee from a flask with Clint's tailgate lifted. I had seen many things in the afternoon, marched like a soldier and taken fifty six pictures. At one point two snarling Alsatian dogs bounced down to the bottom of their long garden to greet me with their raucous barking. They were not saying a friendly "Hello". Thank heavens there was wire netting between us.
I saw an oak tree on Moor Lane, a bungalow by The Great North Road in Ranskill, a cat and a pig at Scrooby Top Farm, sunshine piercing the trees on the path that runs by Black Cat Plantation and one of the old gatehouses connected with Serlby Hall's estate...