The morning sunshine had waned, and the clouds were increasing, but as what work I had was done, I decided I would grab my cameras and head off out. I had no clear direction but I was on the lookout for spring blossom and garden flowers and any early pollinators I might find. I headed in the direction of Kings Walden and Preston, and I was in luck. By the edge of one hamlet was a couple of trees in full bloom with numerous bees in attendance and by Kings Walden there were a series of fields with Longhorn cattle, and what was handy was they came ambling towards me to munch at the long and lush green grass at the hedge and fence with no fear for my presence, their offspring were less sure however. Later when I had found a lane with distinct banks of bluebells, a car stopped and the lady told me she had seen me earlier by the cattle and told me where I might see young owls in the early evening, which was really charming.
The lanes leading towards the central green at Preston were awash with colour, but nowhere there to stop, so I parked by the Red Lion pub, which had featured in an episode of Foyle’s War some time back, I was by the local well, whose depth is checked regularly to ascertain the water table depth, this snippet I learned from one of the nearby residents later that day. What I find fascinating when out and about with cameras and lenses is how often I am involved in conversation and regaled with local stories, equally, when my phone goes and I mention where I am, often as not the person calling recounts some personal recollection of the very place I happen to be – such was the case this afternoon, when I mentioned the pub and my location the person at the other end told me that the pub when threatened with closure was bought by the local residents!
I then walked back down the lane by which I had entered the village and was able to take several photos of the blossom on trees and individual flowers that had earlier caught my eye, on my return, the light shining through the leaves of the trees on the green also fascinated me as they were so fresh from the recent rains. I walked beyond my car and recognised that the flowers in the garden by the side of the house had caught my eye in past years, and I soon found myself in conversation with a man tending to his garden, who told me that there was a wood just a short drive away that was absolutely a riot of bluebells. He gave me directions and it was he who told me the depth of the well. I thanked him and set off, hoping I would remember the directions accurately; I need not have worried as they were very clear and easy to follow, and although by now there was no sunshine, I did manage to find somewhere to stop and was able to get a picture or three, and the sun even came out for a moment before I left. I returned to thank the kind gentleman, then set off back, though I did stop at the edge of one village to capture the strong light on a thin strip of oilseed rape in front of a cottage with dark sky beyond. Later I also spotted some towering clouds silhouetting a line of trees.