Lateish again and feeling the need of some air and space I enter the Glen, there is an offering on the newly installed bin, a dog chewed stick, a boomerang matching the symmetry of the roof and interrupting the silhouettes of trees and reflection of the sky in its shiny painted surface.
I take the high road to the pallisade boundary fencing of the Resource Centre where there is a match in progress, I admire the love affair between Hazel and Horse Chestnut handsomely compatible with Nettle worming her way in, there are paths through the long grass and dumpings too, on past the flowering dogwood, the rush of river water at the hatch is calling me, more nettles in crannies and hemlock and the sky in the water, Dipper comes and we spend time, a good ten minutes, in each other’s company, me still as I can, unthreatening and he dipping and doing his dance, eyes blinking white lidded, imperfectly synced, a semaphore beyond my ken. I go on up to the ridge and see the hatch from above, wondering if Dipper is still below, if I might catch him again. I do the upper loop twice, clocking the familiar landmarks along the way and then I loop back again on the lower track to head eastwards home.
I am stopped by yellow heiroglyphs on the ground at the S wall it must be some official acknowledgment of the dirty drain echoing in with effluent from above.