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Went for a walk today. This is not unusual; I've been for a walk most days. Today I decided to try and get from one end of Black Notley to the other, through Cressing. I didn't, because the road I took lost its footpath and then went over a bridge into Freeport and there was likely to be people around (nothing spoils a walk more than people, huh? Well, actually, one or two things...). I did find a pretty neat patch of waste ground over by the electricity transformer thingamy, which was full of thistles and other prickly things, but only little ones and it was quite nice and flat and open, and another not-quite-so-big patch which was absolutely full of rabbits. But that wasn't what made me want to write about the walk, or wish I'd brought my camera along. Neither was the massive great Alsatian I saw a guard-type-person leading into a van, from the sewage treatment works (and other miscellaneous stuff), where I was very glad I hadn't decided to go exploring.
I was walking back, somewhat dispirited, when I noticed that one of the driveway-type-roads actually had one of those old stone 'public footpath' signs pointing down it. (It was tarmac'd like a proper road, with proper speed limit signs (10mph) and vicious-looking little speed bumps.) Not more than about a hundred yards down this road (just far enough to not be obviously visible from the normal pavement), there were two chick embryos on the ground, or very newly-hatched chicks. One had been squashed slightly, so there was only the body left, but the other one was almost perfectly intact, blind, skin-covered eyes, little half-formed wings and everything. It was quite cute, in a disturbing kind of way. At first I though they must have fallen off the back of a vehicle or something (they really did look like lab specimins, they were absolutely clean and well-preserved; the squashed one simply looked like it'd had the misfortune to land on its head rather than its side), but then I thought it was probably a cuckoo in the nest. (There's a cuckoo in a nest in next door's garden; there's also a wood-pecker in the other neighbour's garden, which isn't entirely relevant, but quite interesting nevertheless.) I stood looking at them for a while, wishing I'd brought my camera (and swearing to take it with me on all subsequant trips, even though I'll probably never see anything worth photographing again), then reluctantly carried on walking.
A little further down this road, there was a house with massive baroque iron gates, which was quite impressive. Unfortunately, a little further on there was a massive great dog - and when I say 'massive', I mean 'this dog was easily as long as your average ten-year-old is tall, and significantly larger in the other relevant dimensions'. The dog was behind a fence, and it barked quite a lot, and was reasonably scary, but I stood my ground and looked downwards, and gradually it calmed down. The fence was woefully inadequate, but as soon as I stopped advancing the dog didn't jump up any more (it only 'jumped' a very slight bit anyway). I thought about turning back, but I decided I should carry on, because it was obvious the dog wasn't going to leap the fence, even though it probably could. So I started advancing again, very slowly and carefully, and the dog barked a bit more but soon got bored and started chasing its tail.
Now, the dog was behind a fence, in a small area containing its kennel. The fence linked up to a gate, which was just one of those farm gates that's easy to climb with big wide spaces between the bars; the path/road went on past both features (not over them, beside them). I hoped that there was another fence between the kennel and the fence keeping the dog in, but there didn't appear to be; however, the dog seemed to be fairly well-behaved, and was only occasionally barking and following me warily. So I continued moving forwards, slowly and carefully, keeping an eye on where the dog was.
Then I noticed that the gate was open; open just wide enough to admit one large dog. The dog was sat just inside the gate, right in the gap, watching me warily (I had not yet got as far as the gate), waiting for my next move
So, very slowly and carefully, and remarkably calmly, I turned around and began to walk back the way I had come. Predictably, the dog ran back up to the original fence (because that was following me, if you only move in straight lines), and barked a bit more, and let me go peacefully on my way, as long as it was away from it.
Naturally, I met no fewer than three dogs on the way back, all of them large. The first was one of those soppy Golden Retriever types, which showed no more interest in eating me than your average cabbage would. The second was a big black dog which bared its teeth and attempted to saunter over, but it was on a big thick rope-like lead and well under control. The third, of course, was Aslan (who we knew as 'the bear' for a while, because he looks rather like one), but thankfully his owner knows to keep him well away from me, and apart from looking back in resigned interest - 'I would eat you, but it's too hot to fight with my owner, as I know I probably won't win'.
I debated about going back to the chick embryos with my camera when I got home, but it was about an hour's walk there and back, and I didn't have another hour to spare, so I didn't; instead I sewed back on the annoying little fastener thingamy that had fallen off my new trousers the other day, and came and wrote this LJ entry.
I was walking back, somewhat dispirited, when I noticed that one of the driveway-type-roads actually had one of those old stone 'public footpath' signs pointing down it. (It was tarmac'd like a proper road, with proper speed limit signs (10mph) and vicious-looking little speed bumps.) Not more than about a hundred yards down this road (just far enough to not be obviously visible from the normal pavement), there were two chick embryos on the ground, or very newly-hatched chicks. One had been squashed slightly, so there was only the body left, but the other one was almost perfectly intact, blind, skin-covered eyes, little half-formed wings and everything. It was quite cute, in a disturbing kind of way. At first I though they must have fallen off the back of a vehicle or something (they really did look like lab specimins, they were absolutely clean and well-preserved; the squashed one simply looked like it'd had the misfortune to land on its head rather than its side), but then I thought it was probably a cuckoo in the nest. (There's a cuckoo in a nest in next door's garden; there's also a wood-pecker in the other neighbour's garden, which isn't entirely relevant, but quite interesting nevertheless.) I stood looking at them for a while, wishing I'd brought my camera (and swearing to take it with me on all subsequant trips, even though I'll probably never see anything worth photographing again), then reluctantly carried on walking.
A little further down this road, there was a house with massive baroque iron gates, which was quite impressive. Unfortunately, a little further on there was a massive great dog - and when I say 'massive', I mean 'this dog was easily as long as your average ten-year-old is tall, and significantly larger in the other relevant dimensions'. The dog was behind a fence, and it barked quite a lot, and was reasonably scary, but I stood my ground and looked downwards, and gradually it calmed down. The fence was woefully inadequate, but as soon as I stopped advancing the dog didn't jump up any more (it only 'jumped' a very slight bit anyway). I thought about turning back, but I decided I should carry on, because it was obvious the dog wasn't going to leap the fence, even though it probably could. So I started advancing again, very slowly and carefully, and the dog barked a bit more but soon got bored and started chasing its tail.
Now, the dog was behind a fence, in a small area containing its kennel. The fence linked up to a gate, which was just one of those farm gates that's easy to climb with big wide spaces between the bars; the path/road went on past both features (not over them, beside them). I hoped that there was another fence between the kennel and the fence keeping the dog in, but there didn't appear to be; however, the dog seemed to be fairly well-behaved, and was only occasionally barking and following me warily. So I continued moving forwards, slowly and carefully, keeping an eye on where the dog was.
Then I noticed that the gate was open; open just wide enough to admit one large dog. The dog was sat just inside the gate, right in the gap, watching me warily (I had not yet got as far as the gate), waiting for my next move
So, very slowly and carefully, and remarkably calmly, I turned around and began to walk back the way I had come. Predictably, the dog ran back up to the original fence (because that was following me, if you only move in straight lines), and barked a bit more, and let me go peacefully on my way, as long as it was away from it.
Naturally, I met no fewer than three dogs on the way back, all of them large. The first was one of those soppy Golden Retriever types, which showed no more interest in eating me than your average cabbage would. The second was a big black dog which bared its teeth and attempted to saunter over, but it was on a big thick rope-like lead and well under control. The third, of course, was Aslan (who we knew as 'the bear' for a while, because he looks rather like one), but thankfully his owner knows to keep him well away from me, and apart from looking back in resigned interest - 'I would eat you, but it's too hot to fight with my owner, as I know I probably won't win'.
I debated about going back to the chick embryos with my camera when I got home, but it was about an hour's walk there and back, and I didn't have another hour to spare, so I didn't; instead I sewed back on the annoying little fastener thingamy that had fallen off my new trousers the other day, and came and wrote this LJ entry.
