I have a bit of a lower back problem today. Every so often something 'clicks' at the end of my spine. It is something I just have to let take its course and heal itself. Tried chiropractors and osteopaths in the past but they have not helped speed this pain away.
So today I took a slow stroll along a track to a much neglected area of the estate. The first stop was at the old bothy. A neighbour nearby says it was once 'the Lodge', but that must have been 40 or more years ago by the looks of the place.
Almost next to it is a large walled garden. It is about the size of two football pitches and was once tended by half a dozen gardeners of varying grades. I have a photo of this walled garden as it was in the days of the 12th Earl of Haddington. I shall have to try to dig it out.
Today it is massively overgrown. Nature hates a vacuum so she has filled this space with trees and bushes; almost impenetrable now.
Whilst standing there in that now overgrown jungle I thought I'd mention William Henry Davies who wrote the poem 'Leisure'. Many will know the first two lines at least which, today, are still as meaningful as when he wrote them in the 20th century.
I met my neighbour, Alice from the east lodge cottage on my way back. She had 'Flossie' with her, an elderly border collie. Flossie's owner is a midwife who lives in a cottage a few doors from me but has gone to Canada for a year and had to leave Flossie with Alice. I am sometimes allowed to take Flossie for a walk. As she is about as old as me, in doggy years, our walkies are gentle strolls; she doesn't pull when on the lead and she doesn't dash off when the lead is taken off. A lovely old gal, but I think she misses her 'mum' who's in Canada for another 6 months at least.