Here's a pic of me in the New Forest about an hour away from where I live at the moment. It was a cold and rainy day, but it was Heaven.
Such a difference from Libya.
Oh, how I'm torn.
The two trees between which I'm standing are physically joined by a branch:
I was there with a wonderful friend, and we walked, walked, and walked through the New Forest. It was gorgeous - we kicked leaves like children, smelled leaves like innocents, and fell, exhausted, finally, into a hotel in the heart of the forest. It was the England of my childhood.
It was great being reintroduced to a part of England which I'd forgotten existed. And what a perfect time of year to go walking.
I heard on the radio today that you can tell which way north lies, apparently, by looking at the moss on the tree when in a forest - it's on the northern side. In England, anyway. Let's hope. So there you are. And another thing. If you rub the leaves of a Douglas Fir, it smells like oranges - and, astonishingly, it does: I've tried it!! Today!!!
