Autumnal Musings

Perhaps my thoughts of school children this morning, stemmed from last weeks school week . Perhaps memories of past school days were prompted by the autumnal tinge to the air. Whatever the reason, a morning stroll through the lanes of St Martin had me pondering on excursions with lots of eager seven year olds.

Before retirement I had taught both year two and year five children. Probably the year two were my favourite. Their appetite for learning was always present and the possibility of an outing outside school always a winner. For quite some years I made a habit of outings in our local parish during the autumn season. So many subjects could be ticked off by a simple walk through the lanes on a sunny autumn afternoon. Obviously science in its many guises as well as history, geography and a little art too. Once risk assessments had been done, parents enlisted to help and letters home written, we would excitedly set off to see what we could find. Just the act of crunching through leaves, examining leaf litter for seed heads, acorns, beech nuts and prickly sweet chestnuts were wonderful activities on their own. Looking at old granite farm houses and buildings always a winner too. By the time we returned to school, pockets were bursting with treasures. A nature table would be set up and activities of an autumnal nature would take place. Happy children, happy days.

So this morning with the threat of rain later we headed off for an autumnal walk of our own. Enjoying laughing at the curious lane names and odd pillars on buildings. What stories did they have to tell. The evocative smells of decaying leaves as we crunched through them and the beautifully designed chestnut cases decorating the ground . In places as we walked through a valley the going was decidedly gloopy and care was taken not to slip as we looked above us at the pretty leaf shapes that were beginning to take colour. Umbers and ochres abounded. Higher up we looked over the barley fields to the horizon beyond. France etched against slate grey skies for-telling of rain to come.

Butterflies were still on the wing, speckled woods and red admirals mainly enjoying the nectar of ivy flowers. Bird song could be heard in the tree canopy above us.

Returning home the first fat raindrops splat against the windscreen. Our timing had been perfect making the most of a dry morning.

Don’t worry my posts about Wales are taking shape. More heading your way soon.

Barbara xxx