Walk by the swing bridge

 . . . except it's not a swing bridge any more. It is set solid and has steps up and off again. It used to be a swing bridge until 50 years ago or so, and all the locals  still call it that.  So, on the hottest day of the year I made the mistake of agreeing to go for a short walk with Tam - by the river and in the woods where it was hoped it would be cooler . . .

Looking upstream.  No Swifts or Swallows today but I think the Swifts have already migrated.  They have a very short nesting season here, just long enough for one brood.

The view downstream from the bridge.

We began our walk, but it was far from straightforward as the boggy patches I remembered were still in evidence despite it being summer - it's where springs come through so the ground remains sodden all year long.  We managed to pick our way across two, but not without me managing to "get a booty"as we used to say when I was growing up.

There were several fallen trees too, which we had to scramble through, and having noticed lots of cow pats along the way, it was obvious some steers (probably) had been turned out here to forage (not much grass, it was mostly Himalayan Balsam along by the river, where they had smashed it down looking for something to eat.  We didn't see them, so they may have been taken off again.

Whilst it was a tiny bit cooler right beside the river, it was still VERY hot.  I was sweating like a racehorse and by the time we got back to the bridge, I didn't have a dry hair on my head!

The steep and high valley sides hold the heat in.

Some poor woman had stupidly thought you could drive down the first tarmacced bit of the footpath (10 feet or so) which is very steep and ended in (deep) mud.  This is NOT a designated parking area for obvious reasons.  She was sideways on across the path when we had parked up (in a layby 100 yds further on as the one space was already taken by another vehicle), having tried to turn the car and get back out..  There was a smell of burnt-out clutch as we passed.  On our return, the chap with the car in the parking space had obviously taken her in search of a Useful Farmer with Tractor to tow her out as no way would she get out otherwise . . .  I can just imagine her reaction when she got down there and realised she had done something Really Silly.  We've all done something daft but not necessarily quite so obviously (or expensively if her clutch has gone.)

Red Bartsia.

Probably Red Cracked Boletus - must check my Roger Phillips book.

Anyway, final viewing of the week was yesterday.  A really lovely chap (Welsh, and coming HOME).  I will phone the agent shortly and see if there has been any more feedback from Monday.