Generally I've got this blog in hand. But not this week - oh no! The visit to Burgh Marshes was a late, late call to make sure I had something to write for Remembrance Sunday. And besides, Sue and I, after a busy ten days, were in dire need of laughing gas, a visit to the pub or a trip into the great outdoors. Given that it was four in the afternoon and the laughing gas store was closed, we opted for the latter.
The road to the marshes couldn't be easier. Go to Burgh Castle, turn at The Queens Head and park up: first left on Marsh Lane. At this point you will still be unaware of the wonderland that awaits.
However follow the muddy trail, pass some impressive cottages and you'll come out on the south side of Breydon Water. But before reaching the marsh, we bumped into someone working on the land. This time, it was local legend, Peter Pees, a musician who has worked continuously since the sixties: the whole scene, as we chatted was wall-to-wall countryside: reminiscent of a Constable scene but updated to include power tools and Pete's roll-ups.
Our conversation brought back memories of a previous visit here, many years back ..... on that occasion we had ventured far out out on the marshes, with Sue leaping, like some Spring lamb from one tuffet of grass to another. Now you don't need me to tell you that the whole marsh is one vast, ice-cold sponge. Regardless, Sue cheerfully ignored my warnings before disappearing through the next tuffet and resurfacing in a state of shock. I shouldn't have laughed cos it really wasn't funny. Oh and it's probably worth mentioning the month ....February, and the distance to our car .... two miles.
This time all went well. Unbelievably, just as we opened the gate onto the marshland, the sun came out, highlighting the gold reeds and the emerald grass. Suddenly life was "in session" as they say. Up ahead the horizon was pierced by wind farms, windmills and narrow dykes running straight to the skyline. Immediately muscles began to relax.
For me there is no better way of moving a mountain of frustration than by spending an hour in the real world. And so it proved to be.
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