On Monday (Day 243) I was dismayed to find that the battery on my red Peugeot hard-top convertible was drained; the car wouldn’t start. I proceeded to open the bonnet lid, the lever had become disconnected, or, so I thought. “Whoops! That’s going to be expensive”. I retreated from the biting wind of a clear morning, back to the warmth of my house, and chose not to give it any more thought.
A lens in my varifocal spectacles had dropped out some time last week. Before lunch on Monday, I drove to Bakewell to get them fixed. Bakewell, like Buxton the week before felt not as lively as on previous visits, and, just a little bit ghostly. But, my opticians were open, and the repair carried out within minutes.
On Tuesday, I stayed at home. During the previous night, I was pondering how I could solve the problem of my red Peugeot. The battery was flat, and the lever to open the “hood” to access said battery for recharging was broken. Therefore, the car was a “dead duck” and would probably need to be loaded on to a recovery vehicle. That morning, I tried again with the lever. Suddenly, a “clunk” sound confirmed that the bonnet lid could be raised and the flat battery accessed. The battery was charged over night, giving me the opportunity to have the lever fixed.
Today, Wednesday, Roger came over for coffee. I had continued with the endless job of sorting out ephemera for eventual cataloging. I later called on my next-door neighbour who was working on a car. We had not “caught up” for quite some time. He enquired if I had kept up with the walking. I confessed that yes, I was still going for walks, but not as much now that it had become colder. But, today wasn’t as cold, nor was it windy. Thus, on impulse, I drove to Parsley Hay, intending only to walk for around half an hour, along the High Peak Trail. I had over- slept magnificently this morning and felt rejuvenated. I walked along the old railway line to beyond Friden Brick Works, which I don’t think I have seen since the 1980s. I have walked as far as Newhaven Tunnel on numerous occasions more recently, usually from Hurdlow. To begin with, there were a small number of walkers and cyclists, but not so many as to spoil the tranquillity of a late autumn afternoon. Friden is approximately two and a half miles from Parsley Hay. Thus, I walked at least five miles there and back. The sun was very low in the sky, and was soon out of sight as it set on the distant horizon. Then, it started to become dark as distant clouds turned to salmon and grey, and nobody was around. Will I ever see this part of the world as darkness falls, ever again? Lights from passing traffic on distant roads did assure me that civilisation wasn’t too far off. But really, I was alone…. certainly it was not the time for one of my dizzy spells! The walk back to the car seemed endless. Therefore, I was rather surprised to realise that it was only just after 5 o’clock when I was back at Parsley Hay, and almost dark. It did feel much later in the evening. But, it was a beautiful walk with an abundance of bird life which had “taken over”. One bird, motionless in the sky, looked as if it had pinprick lights shining from its wings. This was the reflection from a golden setting sun. Leafless trees reflected those same beams of sunlight off their branches. I had made the most of a fine afternoon.
Thanks for reading. David 23.16hrs 25/11/20.
David's Cruise 