The Walk through Whetstone and Totteridge



Kiwi in need of a foot bath ... at the very least

 "You really have to love your dog to want to give it a shower after its walk in the park," I said to Duncan.

"Oh, yes, we do love that dog," replied Duncan, as Steve had her bundled up and was carrying her up the stairs for a good cleaning.




waiting for Steve to catch up

 The walk with the dog had taken us down small paved paths, through Woodside Lane and into High Barnett Place. Steve was using the ball thrower to give the dog a good run on the heath.  A small creek wound its way beside us, reminding me of the creek that winds through Centennial Park.



can you spot the piper?

 The music of a single bagpipe practicing a solitary tune was in the air.

Steve claimed what we could hear was a husband, banished from his house, consoling himself in the woods.

When we got closer I could see it was a person in their late teens, his music pinned up against a tree, and his left foot tapping, keeping strict time, his lungs keeping the pipes full of air as he practised.

Four pm and where did the sun go?



a crisis in capitalism?  who knew?



Duncan noted that a walk is problematic. First we are cold, but after a few short blocks,someone in our party begins to shed, first the scarf, then the first layer of coat, then off comes the fleecy, then back on goes the coat.

So hard to adjust the speed of walking, to the amount of moisture in the air, and the heat the body needs to keep warm. We are too near the solstice to get good daylight pictures after 4 pm. The sun is there and then suddenly it is gone.

Rebecca is refusing to take Duncan and Alex to Les Mis until they know some of the songs ... to becontinued after the now immanent grocery run ....

Arta