Tuesday 20 October 2009

My wife, Sandra, suddenly says, "Let's get the bikes out and go for a ride on the Downs". Now I know that some of the Downs at Herne Bay, Kent have Ups. But I also know that if I do not go, she will talk about walking. Although I am fine talking about walking, it is the actual walking I am not so keen on. Especially with my bad foot. A tennis injury sustained losing Love - 6 (not much love). So I says, "Would love to!". Sandra comments, "I knew you not would be keen." Something she deduced from my inflection apparently.

So we set off. The Downs are about 300 metres from our house and have a beauty all of their own. Usually that is another way of saying a place is duller than a February Sunday. But no, the Downs is an unspoilt open space where wild flowers (weeds) and gorse find nature's way of covering the brownish earth. And birdy UFO's flourish. Sandra identified a few we saw as Dunlin. They have no plural, she tells me. I feel sorry for them.

We saw a women walking her dogs. A couple walking their dogs. A man walking his dog. Or perhaps they were all walking each others dogs and exchange back near the King's Hall. We counted one other cyclist. "One." And that was the sum of the tally. In other words very quiet. Just the sound of a distant bark, the roar whooshing of airliners going to Manston and waves gently crashing, 'booom, splash, tinkle, boom, etc.,.' We stood watching a few finish their journey. The Good Beach Flag fluttered above us. It was great to be out and we gave thanks to and for the Downs.

Even though the day was chilly, grey and wanted to be wet, the ride was an excellent way to spend a hour. We only went part way along the top of the Downs, zoomed down the Downs, pedalled along the sea path and pushed back up. I knew there were Ups.
I guessed Sandra would suggest a longer ride in the distant future.
"We could go to Reculver tomorrow."

"Yes, dear".

The wonder that is the Downs is under threat. Be sure to read my next post.