I went on a walk on Sunday, entirely by accident. I only meant to go to the park near my house, to drink coffee and listen to a podcast, and enjoy the little daylight we get now that winter has just about come. There's a fallen log just ahead of the lake that would have been a wonderful place to sit and enjoy the sun.

And then I saw this sign.

And I was curious.

Where did this footpath lead?

How far would it go?

What fallen trees and other treasures would I find along it?

I began my journey.

Goodbye, lake.

And goodbye, Autumn.

Look at those sad, bare trees.

And I left my park completely, hoping I'd have enough podcast to listen to on my way back home.

I walked through one field after another, following the public footpath signs all the way.

Crossed a bridge made for much more interesting journeys.

Got stared down by some sheep.

And as I came to the end of this new, long field, I discovered I'd walked halfway to the next town, not around the park, like I'd thought I'd done.

Somehow, my podcast was still going, so I meandered down some country lanes.

which are not like any roads in the US. These can fit a single car (sometimes) and are fortified by wicked looking hedges.

And sometimes stone walls. It was a lovely walk, really. Although I had absolutely no idea where I was headed for most of it.

Finally, I made my way back to a field that I was familiar with, just at the edge of the park. The sheep did not want me in their field.

With podcast left, I made my way back home.

Through all of the winter scrabble (I came across a peasant on this trail).

My podcast, which was much longer than usual, ended as I walked up the road to my house.

In the end, my little detour took me through more than five miles of hilly English countryside. And although it was a beautiful and invigorating stroll… I think I'll stick with my fallen tree this week.

Best,

Julia