In dappled sunlight, there shall we leave them.....

　
The familiar well trodden paths have been trod, and the young lad once again tows the aged huff and puffer, to the top of their little hill. It’s been a good walk today, the sun is shining and nearly all the muddy places are almost dried out. The leaves of last year have all but disappeared, adding to the rich leaf mould that is the ground on which this ancient forest nurtures itself.

The now familiar ‘hooter’ of the boy Bing, is swivelled up, down and from side to side and the scents are carefully ‘hoovered’ up and fully appreciated by the connoisseur and owner, of this wonderful appendage.

Some feet behind, the old poop has finished panting, and now delights, in a less knowledgeable way, at the scene before him. There will be other walks and little events that will please their minds, but just now it is about as perfect as they could hope for.

The arching trees above their heads are delighting in their new, fresh greenery. Occasionally a slight wind disturbs them and they rustle faintly, and just once or twice, grey furry shapes trundle along their branches, forever busy.

A suitable log is found and inspected by the man. For once he has checked for any residue of recent rain that might still reside upon this temporary seat.   His pal is busy rooting out an old branch, and wondering if it might make a decent chew? He spots the aged poop rummaging in his pockets, and immediately the branch is just a branch and not so interesting.   Over he trundles and sits, familiar long tongue hangs out of one side of his mouth, and a ‘raffish’ expression winks at the gent.

‘It’s tip-top up here isn’t guv?’

‘It is young Bing, it is.’

Wistfully, the ‘guv’ stares hard at the scene. It’s as if it must be remembered for the time when, getting up here just wont be possible any more.   The view is set, and will remain forever locked in his minds eye. All will remain fresh and as lovely as this day, and the boy Bing forever young.

‘Oi, wakey-wakey old fruit!’

‘M’mmm?’

‘Um indeed!   Is I, or is I not a-going to be partaking of the odd treat or three or what?’

‘Ah yes, I believe I might have something on hand.’

‘Right, well lets be having ‘em guv.’

‘Certainly Bing, certainly.’

The recognition of the lad’s own expression, makes the hound smile, and the hooter is wrinkled for good measure.

Treats are consumed and suddenly that old branch looks interesting to the lad again. But, as soon as the aged gent rises from his seat, interest is immediately lost, for the path ahead is the thing.

‘Shall we wander down to the stream, or down to the ducks and such Bing?’

The lad halts, sits, and ponders.

‘The streams good, but I don’t want you moaning about the muddy banks and so forth…’

‘And such like eh?’

‘Certainly guv, certainly.’

It’s the guvs turn to smile now.

‘So old poop, I reckon the ponds the thing, besides them there ducks will be mightily disappointed if we don’t give ‘em a viewing.’

The ducks it is, and we wander towards them, down and down from the hilltop.

As we approach we realise the fish are sun bathing. Yes they really are. There in the shallows the sunlight has attracted them, and I guess the warm water has become a delight for basking in.

Every now and then, one of them gets skittish and attempts to emulate a flying fish, sometimes quite successfully. Others use their dorsal fins to cut through the surface, like mini sharks.

And the ducks?

They take a while to spot. There they are, yes there they are, up the other end of the pond, enjoying some shady relief from the sun.

And us?

We are coming to the end of our stroll. For Bing it’s just another one, for the old poop it’s far more. The lad is clueless when it comes to ageing.   No, being out and about is the thing. Today, for him, it’s been a gentle stroll with the old poop. Later he will be making faster progress with young Tom and Angela.

But for the moment he’s happy enough to sidle along through the dappled sunlight, back to ‘Lyons’ and a long drink of cool water.

And in his wake, here comes his part-time pal.

The magic of this day is of course the certainty that……

…..here they mingle with the shadows of the ancient forest, and it is here these shadows will forever remain, timeless, ageless and……………………………forever pals.

Goodbye Bingo, goodbye old poop……

………walk on.