On Thursday my husband and I were invited on a hike with our good friends. We have lived in this house for twenty three years and never been on the āOld Paleā walk. It was a glorious, fresh spring morning, the kind of morning that you can only get in Cheshire! Just being outside and seeing the new leaves glistening on the trees, raindrops still hanging on from the previous dayās rain, was exhilarating. I have been retired for almost seven years and still get a kick out of not having to go to work on a week day!
I put my knee straps on and found a walking stick, hidden in the back of my clothes cupboard. Where else would one find a walking stick? It was only a ten minute drive to the parking area. Hiking boots on we set off, husband carrying his rucksack with water bottles, umbrella (Iām always prepared!), a raincoat, Swiss Army knife, plasters and a crepe bandage. Ready for any minor mishap.
There were a lot of people and their dogs out enjoying the glorious weather. The men soon overtook us, leaving my friend and I to enjoy the scenery and set our own pace. When I walk with my husband any hope of mindfulness disappears within the first few minutes. He doesnāt hang about! I follow, head down, stick in hand, getting from A to B as safely and quickly as possible. I stop for water breaks and to take some deep breaths, often just to breathe, before we set off once more.
So my friend and I chatted, enjoying the ambiance and finally meeting up with the men at the top of the hill, facing a monument and a short brick wall. Now Iām not really sure why I did what I did but I obviously didnāt factor in two strapped knees and a walking stick. I found myself stepping up onto the top of the wall, walking stick at an angle to one side and balancing precariously on my left leg. I hung suspended, wobbling, not balanced, for what felt like an aeon, but could not have been longer than a spit second, before I unceremoniously crashed into a heap on the ground.
Did I mention that there were a lot of people out walking that day? The fall was embarrassing and I scraped a lot of skin off my shin which was very painful. Each time I put my right foot down the pain reminded me of my stupidity and intensified the discomfort. I had a clean tissue so folded it a few times length ways and stuck one piece into my sock and the other into the knee strap. I didnāt want to make more of a spectacle of myself by bleeding all over my hiking boot! Luckily I was wearing a pair of hiking trousers which hid the injury. Miraculously they didnāt tear!
I can report that the rest of the walk went without a hitch and, after a hot drink at the visitorās centre, we arrived back at the car. We walked back a different route, following an old wagon trail. This is one of the many things I love about living here! There is so much history, so much permanence. I find this very comforting when hearing about the awful wars or disasters around the world. Perhaps Iām being naive but not one days goes by without me feeling eternally grateful. And I can really appreciate a wonderful, sunny, warm spring morning! It feeds my soul!
I really enjoyed the outing and spending time with our lovely friends. I have to remember that Iām not agile, like a goat, and knee straps are very restrictive. Thatās why I use them.
Iām currently sitting with a dressing on my shin that I put on after my shower last night. Itās healing very slowly. Iām plucking up the courage to tear it off. I go through this fiasco every night! I think Iāll just count to three and pull. Really, Jennifer! What a numptie! š
Jenny Burrell 