Vallis

Each morning I take Dook out. He's a Siberian husky cross German shepherd and needs a few miles walk in the morning. These walks have become my therapy and it has been great getting to know the local land in a more intimate way. There's perhaps a mile through ginnel and park where Dook fruitlessly chases after gull or wood pigeons. There's seldom anyone up though occasionally some of the previous nights ravers staggering about. Up broadway, past the old post office where I once lived and may still be there but for the evil of a creature known as Caro. A beast too hideous to spend time describing. Soon we are in the fields and Dook chases all and everything, half of it imaginary just for the joy of life. I've seen deer in those fields and until they harvested the field skylarks sang above their nests. All now harvested along with the clover.
After rounding the two paddocks a gate opens on to a track with a magnificent horse chestnut. During my three week MXP psychosis I remember hugging its trunk, more to get a hand hold on the spinning earth than pagan life force. That first time I saw a lad with a blanket around his shoulders and his arms around two girls, all looked very tripped out, as was I still.
This track I keep Dook on a leash, deer and the odd hare stray in to the young saplings that have been planted and once his prey drive kicks in he can't hear me too well.
Turning on to the road that leads up to Vallis farm horse jumps and fields of short chewed grass is the home to a large rabbit warren and Dook pulls left amd right as the fluffy bunnies just beg to be chased. But I keep him on till the start of the Vallis track. Clearly many dog owners drive there, let their dogs out who are by now dieing for a crap so its a bit of a mine field. A council dogs shit bin here would not go amiss. Dook immediately takes an invigorating swim and I take a left and try to be stealthy as I creep in to the old quarry area to the right.where I sometimes see the know nearly full grown fledgling peregrine falcons. One of my favourite birds. A gaggle of rooks often shilly shally about the overhead lines an give an indication of how lucky you are going to be. I've seen buzzards there too but aim to be earlier in the season for photographing thr breeding falcons next year.
Back on the track it follows the river where crayfish amass. Roughly one English for each ten American sadly though most who catch them for a tasty seasonal snack know to just take the yanks,
Dippers are common down this stretch as are kingfishers though harder to see as the undergrowth is very green. Its clearly busy in day time or weekends as the dog shit shows.
Various earthworks from over a century ago are overgrown but you can still see the odd lime kiln and train track embedded in the soil. A couple of bridges further down or some stepping stones for the brave get you across and roe deer can be enjoyed by the sharp of eye.
Further down a shrine to a young lad who committed suicide sits beneath a railway bridge. Whether he jumped in front of the train or hanged himself I don't know. Paper messages and dried flowers cover a large boulder and a more mundane modern style graffiti rip brightens the wall.
There are various campfire spots tucked away and evidence that consciousness expansion gatherings still take place. When we were young it was just mushrooms and acid. Now a whole pharmacopeia exists though having done a little research myself i would safely say stick with the old ones. Its all you need; mushrooms for misty moist end of year trips, acid for more expansive summer trips, ketamine for a warm glow, or deeper dives in to holes of hallucinatory magic.
Here I cross the river and we walk a higher track. By know the sun is rising across the valley dap piling the valley with golden spots. The owls are all away now bar the very odd bar owl enjoying the last twilight. The path feeds you out on to a tiny rad that takes you back down to the beginning to Vallis. By now other dog walkers are out and the odd jogger. You're unlikely to see much wildlife know but seeing the dogs fight and play makes up for it. Off leash they never really fight. Just ,lboystrous revelry. Some dog owners do not permit their dogs to interact with their own kind leading to sad dogs. Dook is safe and only plays. If another dog gets nasty he is always strong and agile enough to get away or win.
Returning back I sometimes pop in the shop and have to leave him tied up outside. Now, never approach a tied up dog. They are vulnerable and feel scared. Any bites you receive under these circumstances are your own fault but can lead to the dogs execution. Just the other day, walking along a woman without asking, presumably overcome with a desire to touch Dook came over and put her hands straight to his face. He snapped at her. Don't go up to dogs you don't know and try touch them. Simple rule of life.
From here we walk back through Victoria park where dogs are free to interact off leads. Some cruel group had tried to stop this activity wanting dogs on leads at all times but great fully a counter campaign saw off this paranoid madness. Dook shows he's king of the dogs then its home for breakfast.