Walking

We drove out to Kingsclere, parking right outside the tumbledown cottage where I was born.
We crossed the road and headed up a track through the trees, 
hello to man trimming his hedge...he reassured us this was the right way to Hannington mast...
coming out of the cool canopy of trees, on our left fields and high hedges, 
to our right amid velvet green,
a paddock for the horses sat in a bowl of shallow hills 
rising steep at the far right with the mast up there
 boosting signals like something out of starwars.
Up the long side of the paddock... glimpses of stables and homes 
that can afford horseflesh and the time and space 
for its precious upkeep. 
Talk of teenager's troubles and leavings
wriggle my way out of my sweater
sun warmed air on my skin


we reach the tree line
straight up ahead to the mast ?
no... we decide to walk along the tree lined ridge.
under the beech trees we are deciphering who loves who in living treebark 30 years ago..
wondering if they still do..or even remember each other..oh cynical us.
talk of our dead brothers and wonderful wise hindu men living.
we eat blackberries
the path winds around above the road
we laugh and puff all with the same breath at the view out across the valley
reaching the top ...a car park
laughing enviously but declining to join
four pensioners camped out eating lunch at that splendid view.

we cross the road to the gallops.
onto the downs proper...wayfarers walk, which will take you all the way to Portsmouth..
tho why is anyone's guess !
Breathing
long slow
winding track
families out walking ..dogs galore
couples holding hands
looking for a view to background their memories.
we leave them strolling far behind and make for the crest
and shoeless by now
over a stile onto the sacred soft carpet of gallops
saving delicate horse ankles we walk, strung out yet more relaxed than ever, 
there it is 
The View
we lay down in silence and sun 
breathe 
no really really breathing..
like the first time..
all rushing air, separation pain
then quiet wonderment
a whole precious half hour

the world three quarters sky
a valley full of trees and patchwork colours

walking down the escarpment steep I lag behind
she says ..
' what have you found now?
everywhere you go ..you find stuff'
we laugh at the funny ways of long time friends.
this time it is a pheasant's feather
and a small shape of peace.