A late start to intial bridge..

A late start to initial bridge.

A late start to walking the way after a laying I left the house at 10am only to find my camara batteries had died so it was back to town for more. After this minor inconvenience I set off again.
There was more activity on the way with a mix of serious cyclists and those out for leisure, an abundance of dog walkers calling there best friends back when another was in close range.
I made my mind up to go through Oxenden tunnel but by the time I reached the sustrans sign I felt like turning back because my feet were aching already but I plodded on wondering what lies ahead.
By the time I reached post seventeen the pain eased and made the decision to cut across into a field that runs alongside the track for softer ground, looking up a pair of yellowhammers chased each other in an out of the trees, the brightly coloured male was very prominent. Further along the willow buds were beginning to protrude from there protective shell, the grey like fur resembled a rabbits fur and was soft to touch. I passed the “A” steps and continued through to the meadow, just a green expanse for now no sign of the buttercups or long grasses with small blues or the large and small skippers, but it won’t be long. I wish I found the field earlier last year but I feel more knowledgeable to what’s a round. For some time parts of the field have been redone with new turf, I hope this not the beginnings of a mini golf course.
Walking down by the fishing lakes of waterloo farm I gaze across looking at the human herons fishing on the banks and four Canadian geese chase each other round spoiling the men’s enjoyment. Crossing waterloo bridge to rejoin the track a buzzard slowly glided above using a single beat of its wings to survey another field.
At the splash through I sat on the sturdy bench for a moment watching the Blue Tits and Chaffinches perched in the bushes. The water reflects anything close to it then a man and his daughter cycle through the water carrying on towards my destination. I move on luckily I have a small bridge to cross. Making my way to twin arch bridge which is just before the tunnel. At the entrance to the tunnel the man and his daughter were in deep discussion whether they should continue into the dark abyss, the girl won and to the mans frustration they turned round and headed home but I began my venture into the darkness.
With dark foreboding walls closing in I felt I was not making any progress, the light at the end of the tunnel did not seem to get any bigger until I get to the air shaft above which casts a circle of light on the ground. Passing quickly through the circle of light for fear of alien abduction and more so the contemplation of water running down the back of my neck I make my way to the end seeing the shape of the arch getting larger with each step. Far behind me people are entering the tunnel but there voices make it feel like they are next to me.

With the end in sight the bright light and warm air hit me with vengeance. With a sigh of relief I carry along the track. To the side there is an old brick built signal mans hut, no roof but the fireplace is still intact. It must have been a lonely place. The line gets closer to the road with lorries, cars and motorbikes roar past there drivers unaware of this linear oasis nearby.
I reach initial bridge so called with a little photographic manipulation I can make my initials out C B from the ends of the railings.
In the trees is a rookery the birds harking noise is quiet loud. The nest building is reaching a fever pitch and some birds are stealing twigs from a neighbouring nest an ingenious way but others have the same idea. Scattered around me are Lesser Celandines and dandelions there yellow petals basking in the sunlight a sure sign spring is here. After sitting awhile watching the goings on around me I decide to return home. A journey much the same as I have had coming here but with the heat of the sun on my back and rejuvenated batteries, mind, body and soul.


C.B