The Paxton Pits walk part 2: into the valley of the shadow of the trees

In case you missed it, (perhaps because you were not paying attention, or for some other misdemeanourous reason) the Paxton Pits pictures and commentary appeared here    Following a meeting of the Numeracy Committee, it was decided that after that first publication, this episode should be called “Part Two” (although for reasons that may not become clear at this point).    Pictures by Tony, text by Sir Hardly Anyone.

And so having navigated an array of “do not” signs (details of which appeared in part one, and which is where we left the tale previously, we headed out in reasonable weather, dutifully following the track, mindful of each and every activity that we most certainly could not do.

Now you will appreciate that your fearless correspondent had to lurk at the back of the walk to take that first picture and then scurry on at a most fulsome pace to take this second one, which is “ahead” of the ensemble (although I receive no extra fee for such activity).

And most surprised (and I hope pleased) were the vanguard, to see your correspondent pop up at this point.  I did reveal that this is one of the tricks that one learns in photography college and they were duly assured that no magic was

invoked in the making of this report.

But most certainly there were wonderous sights to behold as can be seen here.   And made all the more wonderous in my estimation as it was only our group upon the walk, able to enjoy the absolute beauty of the scenes around us.

(I’m not sure what happens when the tide comes in but it was jolly nice when we were there).  But of course one of the prime concepts of rambling is that there is no lingering allowed, and thus despite the beauty of the scenic whatnots we walk on, sometimes in the depths of the Amazon rainforest (although our leaders did point out to me I may have misread the geography at this point.

But nevertheless “en marche” as they might have said in foreign parts until that phrase was used by a political whatnot.

But more to the point we had this continuing stroll through not so much undergrowth (which can hamper the footfall as it were) but also the overgrowth which stretched to the sky and as far as I could tell beyond.

And “why not?” you may ask,, and indeed who could but agree!

Quite why everyone in these pictures is always walking away from yours truly with his trusty camera I cannot say but that is how it seems to be – although I firmly deny that there were shouts of “if we walk faster we might lose him” heard at this point.

And indeed I think that some members of the ensemble were rather pleased that I was there to catch the rather disturbing pictures of ropes and hooks hanging.

Of course behind is the river, as magnificent as ever with a poignant island around which the water flows [Editor’s note: in what manner can a mudbank be called “poignant?] but the ropes (front left) are at least a little disturbing.

By whom were they placed thereupon, and for what purpose?   Is this a warning by the local council of what happens if one lingers too long on these shores?

Sadly we never found out, but perhaps one day we may return.  After all it really was a superb walk.  And better still, the cafe was still open when we made it back.  And my car was still in the car park too!

Details of other photographic records of recent walks can be found on the home page.  If you are on one of our walks with a camera and would like your pictures to be shown here (with or without ludicrous commentary) please do send them to Tony@schools.co.uk with the date and starting point of the walk.