Two more wonderful winter walks punctuated the end of 2012 and the start of 2013.
The first, an annual holiday tradition cherished by the girls, saw us donning our wellies on Christmas day to squelch over the sodden fields to the old Saxon mill – turned pub – for festive hot chocolates, mulled cider, and a local beer on draft for Dad. A short walk over well-known, and very muddy, terrain. Not particularly exciting, one would think, undertaken more out of ritual habit than any particular expectation of revelation. But the heavy rains that transformed the fields into brown ooze had also swelled the River Avon. The flood waters poured over the elevated path that led to the pub and suddenly our walk became an exciting adventure.
In contrast, our New Year’s Day walk found us high above the rolling Cotswold countryside on Broadway Hill.