Distant Guns

The Durg

Down the lane, after a week off-limits the track around Kirkharle’s lake has reopened following ‘baring off the sward’.  It’s a process that sounds intriguingly pagan, certainly a phrase to file away, but it involves a few dozen sheep nibbling till narcotised on grass they’d normally only dream of – if they dream at all.  Anyhow, the lakeshore’s munched to the quick and the sheep have departed leaving only their spoor.  The ‘durg’ (a Geordie dog) is able to roam free, the red mist of woolly pursuit averted.  Sitting in the sunshine on a thoughtfully provided bench I feel a tad underemployed.  There’s a lot of it about apparently.  The ‘durg’ seems deliriously happy just widdling its way around the lake.  Lacking the same level of urinary control I’m unable to explore a similar path to fulfilment.  From across the water drift reports of ruddy-faced chaps in mustard cords giving the pheasant population a proper pasting.  Though as gunfire grows more intense it strikes me that semi-automatic assault rifles are not best suited as sporting weapons and instead it’s the army practicing to defend our liberties at Otterburn Ranges.

Time to get back to my inbox…

In the meantime, in no particular order, here’s an aggregator of items that recently caught my eye:-

Author: Nick Redmayne

Travel Writer, Consultant

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