As I wander lonely as a cloud through the guardsmen-straight beeches of Friston Forest, now denuded in full winter trim, the evergreen and distorted Scots pines provide the only colour save for a light tan carpet of billions, maybe even trillions of fallen leaves. It’s a quirk of nature that we strip off in summer and wrap up warm in winter, while the trees do the exact opposite. Where a few weeks ago it was easy to hide in the forest, now daylight permeates from one side of the great swathe of beeches to the other. It can be a depressing time of year, but it’s almost December and in not much more than three months everything will be bursting into life again. Take solace from that knowledge, when you’re feeling morose and down in the depths of January.
Talking of guardsmen, I was reminded when listening to the late Peter Jones (a legend of BBC Radio thirty years ago) commentating on Diego Maradonna’s Hand of God goal, of an amusing moment when he was describing the build-up to an FA Cup final. He said, “and there, standing proudly erect in the centre circle, the Massed Bands of the Household Division, their instruments glistening in the sunshine”. That made the Christmas tape!
I was accompanied on my arboreal stroll by Callie, the whippet lurcher, who has the speed and agility of a whippet combined with readily identifiable traits of the collie and miniature poodle who also feature in her immediate heritage. Callie thinks she is a scout at the head of an Infantry Point Section advancing across hostile territory. She loves to walk delicately one hundred yards ahead of me, scanning left and right, as if expecting an ambush at any moment. Every now and then she will dart off into the undergrowth in hot pursuit of a squirrel or three, which often causes a major detour. She will suddenly reappear from behind, come hurtling past at high speed and once again adopt a gentle padding some way ahead. Her most fun is when she finds another canine who is willing to play. She is so quick and being small, has an incredibly tight turning circle so that as yet she hasn’t found another beast to match her. She loves to be chased and lets the chaser get close before finding another gear and staying just far enough in front to keep the sparring partner interested. If they give up she’ll then chase them. The dogfights that my adopted father happily survived as one of The Few over the skies of the Home Counties were almost invariably won by the pilot who could pull off the tightest turns. Callie is reminiscent of a Spitfire in that regard. Recently she’s adopted another habit. If there are other humans ahead she loves to go and attach herself to them, walking beside their heels as if they are her owner. Whilst taking in the fresh sea air on the Prom the other day, two very chic ladies turned in some alarm to ask if this limpet belonged to me, as they were concerned that she was lost. I was able to put their minds at ease with a smile and a ready demonstration of her instant obedience…..she disappeared off into the thick bushes, only returning when she was ready. Man’s best friend; a gem.
ADayInTheStrifeOf 