On the way, I stopped to get a shot of the church resplendent in its fresh coat of Portland or Magnolia paint; somewhat strange for a church, but it certainly stood out well in the milky sunshine!
I pulled in by the nearest bridge to Slapton Lock and did a limbo dance beneath the rails to get down to the towpath, not the easiest way with a camera and case, but certainly the shortest distance. As before I noted how well the lock keeper's cottage garden was tended, and noted it was appreciated by the bees, out for almost the first time in abundance this year. I had taken a look to decide which direction to take, and chosen that lock and cottage and beyond for a start, and later I returned and took the way to Horton Wharf Lock.
The sheep were quietly mowing the farm lawn amidst old and gnarled trees, some even venturing to the water's edge where the fence was broken, then beyond the cattle were also close to the canal side with the Whipsnade Lion cut into the chalk hillside of the Dunstable Downs beyond in the afternoon haze.
Sporadically the birds would come alive; there were swallows swooping low into the middle of the canal as were a group of common tern, pigeons and crows would also venture from the farm building roofs and off into the trees. I also spotted magpies, a robin and a chaffinch, and every so often the Mallard ducks would take to the air.
I met a couple from Kent on their houseboat, who had travelled from just south of Stoke Bruerne and were planning to stop the night here before continuing their ten day trip further south, they had been intrigued as to what I had been photographic, so I showed them some of what I had gathered by that time and we chatted a bit about what birds they had seen along the way this trip, before I left them to their tea, and the wife returned to her knitting, possibly for a male grandchild, judging by the colour.
On my later return by the houseboat the husband was inside, and caught sight of my passing and we exchanged waives.
