Discarding a Post and Being Dangerous to Damsels.

I had an interesting conversation this afternoon with a disembodied voice on the subject of reality. I was going to repeat it verbatim as a blog post until my attention was drawn to the fact my favourite ladies – the England women’s footie team – were playing a Nations League match against Scotland, so I sat in my cold living room and watched that on the TV instead. After I’d watched them labour to an unconvincing 2-1 win – and become uncomfortably chilled in the process – I’d lost all interest in what’s real and what isn’t, so the post didn’t get made.

But I did have a mildly interesting encounter this evening when I took my short twilight walk…

I decided to go down Bag Lane for a change. Bag Lane has received mention on these pages before, being a prime example of a sunken lane with sheer embankments rising to fifteen feet in places and topped by mature trees on both sides. The tree canopies overhang the lane and so it has a dark, grotto-like aspect even on bright sunny days in the summer. This evening was not bright and sunny. The twilight had fallen early on account of the heavy cloud cover, the mist, and the showers of rain that fell every few minutes. It was also quite cold.

As I started to walk down it I saw a group of indeterminate objects approaching from the opposite direction. I wouldn’t say I was nervous, but my curiosity did have a certain edge to it as the gap between us closed. All was soon revealed; the indeterminate objects were no more than a young blonde woman and four bonny, bouncing dogs. I looked at her face, intending to offer a greeting, and saw her throw a quick and mean-looking sideways glance at me. She said ‘hello’ in an undertone and hurried on. I’ve no idea who she was – never seen her before – and I was a little taken aback by the meanness of her look. Her four canine companions amounted to three Cocker Spaniels and a yellow Labrador. People who have spaniels and labs are not usually mean; they’re open, bright, affable people. If she’d had three Pit Bulls and a Rottweiler it wouldn’t have been surprising.

But then I realised that if my curiosity had been suffused with an edge, she – being a woman approaching a lone male figure in the gloom of a twilit Bag Lane with nobody else around – might well have felt nervous. She wouldn’t have known that I’d have difficulty attacking a housefly with a feather duster these days, would she? And so I assumed her mean look was nothing more than defensive caution. No harm done, and I suppose it was quite gratifying – although not exactly pleasing – that my presence can still strike caution in the heart of a fair young damsel walking alone. Smiley stuff, that.

I also saw a pure white pheasant today. Never seen one of those before. This has certainly been a most unusual year for firsts, and that was the latest.