A rather wet Christmas morning walk through Wivenhoe Wood. The brolly brigade was looking slightly less than joyous as it filed out of St Mary’s and back up the High Street. Wellies probably weren’t the right etiquette for the morning service.
Have wellies, will travel though. All the way across the sodden KGV, tree hopping for shelter along the way.
The plan was to seek sanctuary of a non-religious persuasion underneath the leaves of Wivenhoe Wood.
Wait a minute – leaves, mid-winter?
That Christmas morning hangover hadn’t really thought this one through.
With the Christmas Day Eucharist on BBC1 yet to finish, we found something of a Blair Witch experience in Wivenhoe Wood, and all before before 11am as well.
A tree branch came crashing down just past the lower KGV entrance, and not a single sole in site.
Thoughts turned momentarily to buggering off back to base, defeated by the great outdoors and the everyday experience of Mother Nature falling to her knees as the elements give her yet another kicking.
But with a stomach set to be lined with turkey burgers [TRUE] later in the afternoon, a strong resolve was called for.
Cloud busting became the defining feature for the morning. The hyperlocal cycle suggested something of five minutes on, ten minutes reprieve for the rain.
The Christmas clock must have been stuck. It pissed it down from the great heavens above with every footprint approaching deeper into the wood.
Betcha the roof back at St Mary’s stood steady.
Out towards the fringes of the wood and the VERY muddy banks of the Colne came into view. It was unclear if the tide was moving out back to Brightlingsea or if the upstream source was simply having a manic Christmas Day morning.
And so wet weather with some humidity hanging in the air. Dodging the midges as you try and neck a cheeky mince pie is a new Chirstmas Day morning experience.
We’re all DOOMED. Especially those wearing wellies.