Countryside Ramble

What a glorious start to what looks to be quite a promising day. I've never been one for following the weather forecast too closely, I just try and dress according to what's going on outside my door.
So it was with much glee that I pulled on my shorts and T-shirt for today's ramble, one that found me heading off into the beautiful countryside with my very good friend, Suzie Womble.

Now, for those of you that have been following me so far, I am all too aware that I said I would explain all about my good friend and where her very curious name came from. The more I thought about the explanation, the more lost I became.... because I'm not really sure I know. The only thing I can be truly certain of, is that she's a little bonkers. Not truly mentally ill you understand, just maybe what people would call blonde. Over the years that we've been friends, I have just learnt to accept her ways and in fact it probably endears her to me even more. I don't want to go off at a tangent here, as it would be quite easy to, and start regaling you with stories of her teddy, Bobbi Bear, who goes on holiday with her, has her own bikini, and who poor Suzie's fiancé is made to take to work with him or out on days trips so she won't get lonely, but I want to try and paint a picture for you of what goes on in her lovely private little world, and how she trustingly believes all she is told.
So, back to the countryside. For anyone not familiar with Peterborough and the surrounding area, it's flat. For miles and miles around, it's as flat as a pancake, and I love it. I feel extremely passionate about the countryside here and think that far too many people drive through it every day without even looking at it. I drink it in.
I listen to people burbling on about Scotland and how beautiful it is and yes, to a point I agree. Hills and mountains are lovely, very pleasing to the eye and nice for sheep, but here in the Fens I can watch the sun appear at the edge of the world in the morning and then I can watch it go down at the end of the day, beautiful. Nothing to obstruct my view other than maybe the odd building or at the moment a combine harvester.
Quite often on our walks in the country I feel a little like I'm giving Ms Womble a nature lesson, “oh look a heron” or “look, a weasel.” Most of the walk is next to a river, so more often than not we see ducks and swans, which is where, for a change, I was the one that got a lesson in nature.
“Did you know that the duck is the fastest bird in the world?” my walking companion asked. I looked at her, waiting for the punch line, but no, she was deadly serious. I told her that the fastest animal in the world is actually the Peregrine Falcon, and that I thought her beloved had been feeding her duff information again, purely for fun you understand, as he knows she absorbs and then repeats every little fact he gives her. So we both agreed to go away and check our facts, and as it turns out we're both almost right. The Peregrine Falcon is the fastest animal on the planet when in it's hunting dive and the duck is amongst the top 10 fastest birds when measured in level flying.
Further along the river we encountered a pair of swans with their young. This always proves a little worrying for me, I think it must hail back to the assembly that was delivered to all the children in my primary school once every year, just before the start of the Summer holidays. We were warned of the dangers of farm machinery and rivers, I suppose being on a tractor in the river would be quite concerning, but in particular we were warned about swans.
We were told never to approach them and especially if they had young, as they could break a man's arm, blimey, what would it do to my spindly arms and legs then? I pointed out the beautiful but obviously quite deadly creatures to Suzie to which she told me we needed to be careful as a swan can break a man's arm! We didn't go to the same primary school, before you ask.
We looked at each other and with our combined years thought that at least one of us must know of a man that's been attacked by a swan and had his arm broken, but no, and of all the people we have since asked, still nothing.
Maybe someone reading this will contact me and tell me if they've had experience of this or know of anyone it may have happened to, but until then I guess it'll have to be added to the countryside myths along with the Beast of Castor.
Enjoy the sun!