last summer, we had a few walks that we repeated again and again. one was the firdale walk.
it leads up the hill past the rugby club and a field where horses and goats graze. then it winds through a 1970s estate. we would stop at the public rugby ground – which they call the exercise place – and at the grassy slope under the big cherry tree and then head back home through Moss Road and the ‘woody bit’.
not a great walk by any means, more tarmac and houses than grass and trees. but when we embarked on it today – one of the coldest winter days this place has seen in a long time, but full of sun and blustery skies – they loved it. Armed with their scooters, they remembered every little bit. and they raced through the crystal breeze, laughing and singing, running and playing riders and racing cars, princesses and knights… they even shed of their boots for a moment to run across the frozen grass as if it was summer again and the cold on their feet did not bother them.
every little moment, so precious…