Brief Encounters.....

There have been times during our little outings, when I’ve wondered quite what the boy Bing makes of our stop, start perambulations.  For those of you who’ve ‘journeyed’ with us, it must be painfully obvious that the old poop who trails behind the lad, is probably not quite the sort of ‘trundler’ he’d prefer. However, he has managed to slow down and make allowances for the aged guv.

One ‘plus’ of course is that he’s learnt to observe more than just the scents that percolate up the renowned ‘hooter.’ 
We have a number of regular trails we plod, and it’s interesting to notice the changes as the seasons turn. Also, the wildlife and folk we come across during our jaunts. 

Bingo is an affable sort of chap, and is still not sure why squirrels don’t wait around for a chat, instead of scurrying up the nearest trees. 

‘What do you reckon all that’s about and so forth guv?’

We are both peering up into a nearby beech, at one of these ‘furry flouncers.’

‘I think old fruit, they reckon we’re after their winter nosh.’

‘Coo, guv I’ve tried their haycorns and such and am not impressed.’

‘I guess they just can’t believe we’re not yearning for such fare.’

The lad decides to use a bit of Bing diplomacy.

‘Oi you up there!’

The squirrel leans forward, nose twitching 

‘You’re more than welcome to your nosh, we’re not partial to it……. honest!’

The squirrel lifts its head slightly, and for a moment I’m reminded of the sort of face Kenneth Williams would have pulled! (‘Oh….Matron!’)

By now mine and Bings necks are aching, and the squirrel, I believe, is not going to ‘play ball’ and pop down for a chat.

‘Come on guv, old sniffy up there’s not interested.’

We continue on our stroll, both noticing the squirrels look of pleasure at our not getting his nosh!

Shortly after we meet two dogs out with their walker. They are a Jack Russell and a West Highland White Terrier, who are very bossy looking, but actually settle down after a low woof! from the lad. Their walker is rather like me, in so much as we are delighted to stop for a moment and get our breath back. He addresses us with a raspy voice.

‘It’s very muddy over by the stream.’

This is confirmed as I notice his extremely muddy boots and trouser bottoms!

‘Right-ho.’

‘Mick, Monty and me are orf to the pub, and a pint.’

‘Sounds like a good plan.’

‘Yus.’

We nod and orf, I mean off they go, and we wander away, avoiding the stream.

We later meet up with a young retriever and his master, and I tell them it’s very muddy by the stream, and they thank me for telling them, and yet I cant help thinking they aren’t at all bothered about a bit of mud…..and I feel even more of an old poop.

‘What you thinking of guv?’

‘Oh nothing Bing, just feeling a bit old.’

‘Only a bit guv?’

‘Don’t be cheeky!’

‘Made you smile though didn’t I?’

He had of course.

‘One cheering thought Bingo.’

‘What’s that?’

‘At least this forest is a lot older than me!’

Bing looks very carefully at me, and then at the ancient oaks and beeches……..



　

　

　


……………………………….‘Are you sure old puffer?’