He soon phoned me back to say yes, so after sorting a few remnants from Saturday’s work, I gathered a few cameras and lenses and drove to meet him at Clophill and we both transferred to his car and he drove me to Ampthill, and we set off to walk through The Firs, with Andy giving me a running History commentary – if there is a gap in his local knowledge, I think only the local historian could fill it!
Andy has a photographic project needing a sport-related image, so we both stood behind the goal to capture something of the two teams playing, before moving deeper into the woods and up the hill to the renowned wild heather. There were a great number of dog walkers, bike riders and walkers out in the crisp morning air. The strong low sun meant that the silver birch fairly gleamed against clear rich blue of the sky, and the frosty leaves were now slowly melting to droplets of water. We walked beyond the heather to a gate that led to the War Memorial and the Almeda, a tree-lined avenue of Lime trees that had been newly shaved. We stopped by the memorial and both captured a few close-ups of the crosses and wreaths thereon. Returning eventually to the Ampthill road with its thatched cottages and tiles eyebrows above a window of a lodge-like building, and Andy’s car, we then drove further for Andy to show me the ruin of Houghton House .
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