Show me the Wey
Easter Sunday, the sunniest and perhaps hottest I've seen in my life time and we didn't squander or waste it we went on a walk to absorb a visual feast.
With such promise of kind weather, the usual discussion with my husband was based around where to go, what to see; what new experiences were waiting?
When we couldn't agree our daughter stepped in and showed us the Wey a path we'd never contemplated taking as we never strayed too far from our beloved Thames.
We parked at our usual spot in Walton Upon Thames and I have to admit upon arriving and seeing the amassing crowds, out with families, friends or both, I was a little irritated desperate for alone time in the company of my husband; desperate for alone time in my new experience; desperate to be alone with my thoughts and visuals. A big ask on a beautiful Easter Sunday but, sometimes I live in hope even this close to London. Deluded, yes very!
We walked past a few beautiful cottages following signs to the Wey Navigation before we reached Thames Lock which we crossed via a small, iron bridge.
We then continued on our Wey passing houses that back on to its still waters and elegant Willows casting shadows across its waters.
We saw competing kids in canoes and their enthusiastic parents on bikes racing towards us, sometimes almost forgetting to miss us.
At Coxes Lock it got busy as the canoes were carried around the lock and placed in the Wey the other side.
An altercation as a barge leaving the lock was taking the place of where the canoes were re-launched on the Wey. It was over in a split second and we walked further on in the afternoon sun.
We watched a family outing upon the Wey and observed as many took the phones out to snap away at the beautiful sight.
Further down New Haw Lock
Then an image less beautiful concrete and colourful graffiti. Unfortunately I didn't understand the message these artists were sending or I would have captured them.
Quickly they were forgotten as we approached a rickety, steel bridge, suspended across the Wey and we forked off and found ourselves on the Basingstoke Canal.
And so we walked beside its still, stagnant waters not busy like the Wey or the Thames before.
On this route we were greeted by a wonderful white fall, dancing in the wind before landing in a sheet upon the dry footpath.
When we looked up it appeared to be snowing under the burning sun as the trees, whose
name I do not know, released their seeds, just set them free and there they lay on the ground, in the Canal and some got caught in spider webs others landed upon us and one was inhaled by Graeme, my husband.
We walked on but not much further and there on the Canal, boat houses whose colours and shapes were reflected, the mirror image every bit as effervescent as itself.
Upon its still waters and a lowly duck basked under the shelter of the tree.
11000 steps in it was time to walk the Wey back home again.
The family of ducks were on the banks fighting off a crow as two pigeons looked on.
The cyclist racing, ringing bells had almost gone. We have no idea who won the kids canoeing competition.
As we reached the Thames Lock a barge took up its position ready to take its journey down the Wey in the direction from which we had come.
I quickly forgot my irritation as the beauty that surrounded me, the feelings that it evoked and the company I was in was enough to take me away from the noise inside my head; the bird songs and falling seeds were enough to switch the busying thoughts from work to being present.
Sometimes all you need is a new direction; a different perspective and life is once again full of wonderment and beauty.
However you celebrate, Happy Easter Sunday everyone.