Profile
Blog
Photos
Videos
The weather forecast had seemed promising for this ride a few days earlier but on the day a gale was blowing and Operation Stack was in force not far away on the M20 with 65mph winds lashing the coast. Our leader assured us that the forest would protect us but not all of the ride was in the forest! We set off with gay abandon mostly downhill and with the wind behind us! Autumn colours were wonderful down some charming country lanes. John counselled Norman to take care where flailing of hawthorn hedges had recently been done lest a thorn be picked up. Sadly it was John who once more sustained a puncture. Norman and Ruth acknowledged John's foresight in having a new inner tube with him and agreed a trip to Halford's was required in order to be similarly equipped. Past the Duck at Pett Bottom an alternative lunch venue? and on into Bridge. Running behind schedule there was no time for Norman to call in and scrounge a cup of coffee from his cousin. Peter was anxious about the state of a dry ford somewhat odd in view of all the recent rain The 'TEST YOUR BRAKES' sign was redundant. Disused windmills would have been working overtime today and it easy to understand they were where they were! Pleasantly chastised for being late we arrived at the Lord Whiskey for a very good lunch of succulent lamb with mint sauce and roast potatoes, cooked and serve by three lovely ladies, washed down with excellent red wine that Peter had carried with him (corkage paid). Lovely puds which nearly had John on the naughty step! Peter had set us a competitian - an Ode to Swampy. Only our resident bard John had taken up the challenge. Here is his offering :-
Ode to Swampy or The Saving of LymingeForestDoom and foreboding hung over the wood
Men of greed and no vision were planning destruction
All this beauty and magic would go soon - and for good!
An army of bulldozers, axemen, and diggers were lined up in rows;
While life in the forest, on its floor, in the trees and above in the air
Could sense the grave danger they could not oppose.
The forest folk's fear was with doubt overcast.
Who were the wild looking humans chained up high above?
Were they Nordic invaders returned from the past?
Perhaps just the trees, with their wisdom of years
Could have known that the guests in their branches
Were fighting to save them and wipe off their tears
Our world is so precious, yet most of us choose to live without care.
And hope that others will save it for those yet to come.
We depend on the brave, and the mad ones who dare.
Some say they are foolish, different, eccentric or odd
But as the world trembles, and the ice starts to melt,
It's the 'strange' ones like Swampy who are closest to God.
John Goodman November 2009
- comments