Meandering at the edges of paddocks and sometimes across them, the deeply engrained cow and sheep trails were my usual pathways. When I was not following these, I opted to walk on vehicular tracks. At all times, I deliberately set out to leave no trace of my passing.
Even when I climb fences, I make an extra effort to restore any reshaping to the original configuration. The last thing I want is for anyone to see that a fence has been climbed and believe this is a regular ‘pathway’. When fences become distorted, they start the journey to break down and, with valuable livestock to be managed, no farmer wants to be worrying about maintaining fences when the deterioration is not time-related.
The Derwent River
The speed of the river flowing downstream always surprises me. The power of that water, the changing colours of that deep mass, the scale of the River, and the variations in the unique landscapes on the edge impress me strongly. Time and again.
Where the Derwent passes through Cluny Lagoon and Meadowbank Lake, the wider expanses of water gleam.